


Superman: A New Hope

by gjacklombardo



Category: Star Wars, Superman - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Krypton, Star Wars - Freeform, Superman - Freeform, Tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 16:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gjacklombardo/pseuds/gjacklombardo
Summary: A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...SUPERMAN: A NEW HOPEThe core of the planet Krypton was heating to a point that would soon cause the planet to explode. In hopes of saving their infant son and preserving the Kryptonian race, Jor-el and Lara-el loaded their young son into a ship and sent him soaring toward the planet Tatooine. Having arrived on the planet, Kal-el soon realized that Tatooine's twin suns gave him superhuman powers. Guided by the Jedi master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the young Kryptonian was guided to a small farm where he was raised by his adoptive parents, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Having been raised as Clark Skywalker, a series of events now leads the young man on an adventure that will take him to the far reaches of the galaxy. There he will learn the ways of the force, come face to face with ultimate evil and attempt to take down the Empire's newest and most destructive force, The Death Star.





	Superman: A New Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own or have rights to the characters in this story. This is simply a fan fiction novelization crossover of Superman and Star Wars.

* * *

 

 

 

Jor-el stood before the Kryptonian Council, desperately pleading his case.

"This disaster will surely mean the end of our planet. I implore you, we must vacate Krypton immediately. The end of the planet is nigh at hand."

Alura in-Ze, standing behind her pulpit responded promptly, "Jor-el, you are viewed as a member in high standing of the Kryptonian Council and we all respect your scientific prowess. However, we do not see the validity of your current studies. The Council simply does not see the situation at hand to be as dire as you predict."

"It is dire," Jor-el demanded, nearly shouting. "I have run every calculation numerous times; every scenario and I only come up with one conclusion. Krypton will explode. And it will happen shortly."

Alura was clearly hesitant, as she questioned, "When do you predict this cataclysmic event to occur?"

"Within thirty days," was Jor-el's quick response. "We must act swiftly. The lives of every Kryptonian depends on our rapid movement upon this matter. Not acting upon this would mean the destruction of the entire Kryptonian race. Please," Jor-el begged, "do not let our entire race be destroyed along with our planet."

"Jor-el, even if your predictions did turn out to be true, what could be done? How could we evacuate an entire planet? It can't be done."

"Oh, but it can," Jor-el responded.

Pulling a device from his pocket, Jor-el punched a few buttons. Upon doing so, a holographic image appeared directly north of the device. It showed the model of a ship, It was diamond-like in shape, with slightly rounded edges. Although the image was not shown in solid form, you could envision it's sleek design.

"This ship," Jor-el continued, "could transport us all to safety. In it's completed form, thousands could be brought to another planet, widely out of the range of Krypton's destruction."

"But the construction," Alura responded, "The science alone would take years of research before we would even begin to build a ship of such magnitude.

"Not correct. I have conducted all the scientific research. Furthermore, I have already built a working prototype; a ship that is more than suitable to endure the rigors of space travel. If we all work together, we would be able to build a large enough ship to transport us all from Krypton before the planet explodes."

Alura looked hesitant, clearly contemplating the words of Jor-el. His claims seemed absurd; both of the planet's destruction and of the ability to build a ship that could transport such a large populous. These seemed the ravings of a mad man. Yet, she had known Jor-el for many years. She respected him as both a sane and brilliant man. If he were making such claims, surely there had to be some merit to them.

Before Alura was able to complete her thoughts, Brainiac stood from a large throne, set on a pedestal behind her podium.

"But, High Councilor," Jor-el began to plead.

"Silence," Brainiac demanded. "I myself have looked over your studies. It is my conclusion, as it is that of the Council, that your research holds no merit whatsoever. No ship will be built. And, I must say, the mere thought of vacating the planet of Krypton borders on the precipice of treason."

"I mean no disrespect, High Councilor, but I beg of you. Please look over the data once more. If you let me explain it to you..."

"Explain it to me?" Brainiac cut in, clearly perturbed. "Do you contend to know more than Brainiac?"

Jor-el did not respond. He stood in his place, both looking and feeling rejected. He knew at this point that the Council would not consider anything more that he had to say from this point forward. Anything more would only be held against him. Rather than risking the already veiled threat of treason, he felt it was best to remain silent. He had stated his case. He had shown the data from the studies he knew to be true. There was nothing more he could do to save his planet. So, rather than continuing on, Jor-el decided to concede his plea.

"No, Sir. I do not make any such contention," he muttered.

"Very well," Brainiac concluded, "There will be no more discussion on this matter."

The Council session was brought to conclusion in a ceremonious manner.  
Alura in-Ze watched on, as Jor-el walked out of the session hall; his swagger clearly showing the weight of concern over his defeat.

 

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Jor-el sat at his crystal-like desk, clearly in deep thought. The desk's construction gave it a clear appearance that matched the transparency of the computer set upon it. On the screen were the blueprints for the ship he had designed and built. He remained in silence, staring intently at the screen.

His wife, Lara, entered the room. She wore a flowing white robe that was common to the women of Krypton. In her arms, she held an infant. There was nothing extraordinary about the child; nothing that would make him stand out amidst any number of other children. Yet, she clearly showed her deep affection for him. It could be seen in the way she carried the baby, close and tight, that she was clearly a protective overseer of the youngster.

"It did not go well?" she questioned knowingly.

"They would not listen." He paused, pondering the ramifications of their decision. "For a moment, I thought Alura may give heed, but then Brainiac took charge of the meeting." Jor-el paused and stood as he spoke the name of Brainiac.

"How could they not...?" Lara searched for the right words. "The research is so clear."

"They just don't seem to see what is so obvious to you and I. I'm afraid," looking forlorn he added, "Krypton is doomed."

"I don't see anything that we can do. Without the help and resources of the Council, it would be impossible to build a ship large enough to support even the three of us. There simply is not enough time. Plus," he paused, "I could not abandon our planet and people, even in the midst of certain destruction."

Lara gave an understanding glance. She and Jor-el had been married for many years. And, even before that time, they had known one another since childhood. Lara knew Jor-el's character; his moods and temperament. She knew there was no way Jor-el would ever leave others behind to save himself.

"But," he added quietly, looking directly at young Kal-el.

Immediately knowing the meaning of the glance, Lara chimed, "You can't be serious?"

"The working prototype has been built. Though it could not hold us, it is large enough to house Kal-el."

"But, Jor-el, it has not been fully tested. It may not last the rigors of an intergalactic flight. Kal could be killed amidst travel."

She knew this not to be true. Jor-el had designed and built the ship in a way that she knew would excel. Yet, the thought of losing her child bothered her greatly and she felt the need to make an attempt at stopping it from happening.

"If he remains here, his death is certain. If Kal-el remains here, he will surely die; just as the rest of us will. Sending him away is his only chance for survival; the only chance for the surivial of the Kryptonian race."

This eased her apprehension slightly, as Jor-el began to pace. He clearly did not like the idea of this anymore than Lara did. Yet, it was the only hope.

There was nothing more that could be done. As much as he did not like this plan, he knew he must carry it out. They must.

"Where would we send him," Lara finally asked, breaking a long silence.

"Tatooine," was Jor-el's soft response?

"Tatooine?" Lara questioned alarmingly.

Before she could continue her protest, Jor-el broke in. "It is his best chance for survival. The planet's surface is very similar to that of Krypton. The inhabitants breathe the same type of air. Kal-el would thrive on Krypton. Plus, Ben is there. We may be able to get a message to him to ask him to watch over the child."

"But he," Lara clearly did not want to state the name of the person she was referring to, "is also there as well."

"It is Kal-el's only hope, Lara. Our only hope." Wanting to relieve her fears, Jor-el added, "It is unlikely that he would ever even learn of Kal-el's presence on the planet, and if he did," Jor-el paused once again. "The twin suns of Tattooine will give Kal-el powers far beyond that of any ordinary man; powers we could not even begin to imagine. His sensitivity to the force will be like no other."

"Not quite like no other." The clear concern in Lara's voice showed through.

"Yes. He and Ben would be the only other two. But together," Jor-el paused once again. "Together the two of them just may be enough to defeat him.

That would be a benefit to the entire galaxy." Jor-el looked down, then back up at his wife. Looking into her face, he declared, "We must send him."

 

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Jor-el and Lara-el were awakened from a sound sleep by the sound of glass shattering. As they awoke, they realized that their entire home was shaking.

"It has begun."

Jor-el's voice did not show concern. He had come to accept his certain fate. The voice of Lara was not as calm.

"What shall we do?" she cried out with certain worry in her tone.

"Come. It is time."

Lara had tears in her eyes as she picked young Kal-el from his crib alongside their bed. She held him close, as the three walked briskly through their bedroom and toward the rear of their home. Upon reaching the back door, Lara glanced down at a broken picture frame; the item that had clearly made the shattering sound that had awoken her and her husband.

Behind broken glass, could be seen a picture of their small family: Jor, Lara and Kal-el.

Opening the door, the three entered the open air of their backyard. Jor-el pulled out a remote. As he punched a button, the ground began to part, pushing grass aside to the left and the right. As it did so, an opening appeared. From it, arose a ship.

The ship was a form of metal that shone with almost liquid-like gleam. It was not large, but did appear to have enough space to hold it's tiny passenger.

After fully emerging from the ground, it stopped. Hovering in mid-air, you could now clearly see all the solid attributes of the image that, prior to this, had only been seen in holographic form.

Pushing another button, the top of the ship lifted, seeming to split the craft in two. The parents walked toward the opening, carrying the infant son they knew they were about to see for the last time.

Sounds and sights all around them were increasing in magnitude. Bursts of fire could be seen erupting in the distance. The ground shook. The air heated to an ungodly temperature. None of this phased the two. At this moment in time, the sending off of their son from this planet was the only task at hand.

Placing Kal-el into the ship, Lara wrapped him tightly in a silver blanket. Upon it, Jor-el placed two items that he knew would be vital to Kal's existence on Tatooine.

The two parents took a step back, looking on as the ship sealed shut, enclosing their young son within it's structure.

"Were you able to reach Ben?" Lara asked.

"I sent a message. We can only hope he received it. For now, all we can do is trust in the fact that Kal is in the hands of the force. May the force be with you, young Kal-el."

"May the force be with you," reiterated Lara.

As Kal-el's ship lifted off from the surface of the planet Krypton, it was illuminated by the erupting flames now covering the surface of his birth planet. His departure was highlighted by the flash of the planet's explosion.

 

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The trip from Krypton to Tatooine was a long and bare one; filled with little more than wild openness. Other than the occasional glimpse of light from a planet as the ship zoomed by, the entire trip was spent in absolute darkness. This meant nothing to Kal-el. Upon entering the ship, he was of too young an age to take notice of such things. Aside from this point, the child was sealed within, in such a way that he was removed from the sights and sounds of anything outside his tiny compartment.

Fit with an intravenous tube that provided the child with food and water, he spent his first two years of life in this small space, cut off from any part of the world he had known or would ever come to know. But, alas, the journey was nearing an end.

Kal-el was utterly unaware as the twin suns of Tatooine came into the ship's view. As the craft inched it's way forward toward his new home, the toddler began to feel different. It was nothing his young, undeveloped mind could explain or comprehend. Yet, his body; his body knew something was changing. On a molecular level, the entire being of the Kryptonian was changing.

On Krypton, Kal-el would have grown to have a physical structure very similar to that which was common to all on Tatooine. His intellect would be more advanced, as was the cause of his planet's evolutionary process.

However, from all other perspectives, he would have looked and developed like any normal Tatooinian. But, here on Tatooine, things would be much different. Due to the heat and radiation of Tatooine's twin suns, Kal-el would possess powers much greater than that of any other mortal. Though he was fully unaware, this is what the youngster was feeling throughout his physical body.

As the suns' rays engulfed the craft, his powers grew. The child squirmed and turned, now becoming uncomfortable in the craft that had fit him so well for the past two years. As his elbow hit a wall amidst his squirming, a large dent appeared. It went full through to the outside of the craft. Any more force and a hole would have appeared, causing he and his dwelling to go careening off course. In reality, the ship was beginning to move in erratic patterns, as each of Kal-el's movements provided enough power to penetrate; or even destroy, most normal structures. It is not known what may have happened to the ship and it's inhabitant, if not for the help the two were receiving.

From the planet's surface, a man could be seen standing on a dune of sand. He wore a brown, hooded robe, with a simple white belt tying it at the middle of his body. He had a graying beard and white hair, with sun worn skin. His appearance would be odd to most as he stood there with one hand outstretched, motioning in the direction of the ship. In reality, Obi-Wan Kenobi was using the force to control it's trajectory, steering Kal-el toward the exact dwelling he wanted the child to arrive at. For, he had been expecting the child and through his sensitivity of the force, he knew the home in which he must be raised.

In a matter of moments, the ship crashed into the dry, sun soaked surface of his new home. Immediately upon impact, the youngster pushed his arms forward. The strength of his push caused the top of his ship burst open.

And, just like that, Kal-el was able to exit the small capsule he had occupied for most of his young life.

On unstable legs, the boy took his first steps. With no goal of an end point, he walked across this strange land. Seeing a small, circular dwelling, Kal-el innocently moved in that direction. He had no idea what it was, but something was clearly directing him; telling him where to go. As he neared the small home, a middle aged man and woman could be seen tilling the land alongside.

Noticing the boy, Beru spoke, "Are my eyes deceiving me or do you see what I see?"

"Why, it's a boy," replied Owen.

 

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Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, as they came to be known to the youngster, raised Kal-el as their own. Beru was barren and the couple had wanted a child for the longest time. They saw Kal-el as an answer to their prayers; a sort of surrogate for the child they were never able to conceive on their own. They chose to name the boy Clark, using Beru's maiden name.

Coupled with their surname, Kal-el became known to all as Clark Skywalker.  
It was not long before Beru and Owen began to realize that Clark was not an ordinary child. The first notice came one morning when Owen was working on the family's Landspeeder. While doing an overhaul of the vehicle's engine, the time had come to lift it back into place. Owen had a craned lever prepared to hoist the immensely heavy item. He was all prepared to do so when he turned and, to his astonishment, saw young Clark, all of two years old, holding the engine in one hand.

The couple may have become very troubled, if not for a visit from a strange man referring to himself as Ben Kenobi. Ben explained about Clark's origin; how he had come from a planet known as Krypton; the very planet that had once been home to Ben himself. Hearing of the explosion of their adopted son's planet, their hearts would not allow them to consider giving up the child. The old man went on to explain how the structure of Tatooine gave Clark special abilities. Once all was explained to Beru and Owen, they knew they had an extraordinary challenge on their hands in raising Clark, but they were fully committed to do so. Ben pledged to remain nearby, keeping an eye on Kal-el as he grew and swearing an oath that he would help with the youngster when, and if, ever needed.

Ben's promise relieved the couple greatly. However, they never did take him up on it. To spite his origins and supernatural powers, Clark grew to be an ideal young man, helping run the farm and taking on the same ideals as his "Uncle Owen." Beyond having supernatural strength and speed, Clark seemed to have an extraordinary sense of concern and caring for others, far beyond any other man Beru and Owen had ever known.

As for Clark himself, he grew fond of life on Tatooine, to spite it's dry land and scorching heat. And he very much loved his adoptive parents. Yet, he always had a longing for something more; a sense that he was there for a greater purpose. Clark never understood why he possessed the powers he had and Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen had chosen not to tell Clark of his heritage until they felt he was old enough to understand. What they did not realize is that Clark was not only gifted with physical prowess; he also had mental capacities far beyond their understanding. Clark could see that he was different than others in this way, but could not explain exactly what the difference was . Clark seemed to know things before they happened. He would often react to a dangerous situation before anything actually occurred, once saving Aunt Beru's life from a sudden Tusken Raider attack.

Without hearing or seeing a thing, Clark suddenly tackled his Aunt to the ground, covering her body with his own. Bullets bounced off his back like they were hitting a steel wall. This protected her from what would have been certain death. Many such situations occurred throughout Clark's young life. Although none were quite as severe, each were equally as puzzling to him.

As Clark grew, so did his powers; as did his sensitivity to the force. And now, as he approached his twentieth year, Clark was growing increasingly restless towards life on the farm. The young man found himself torn between the sense of commitment he felt toward his adopted parents and the stirrings that told him he was destined for matters of much greater importance that lie elsewhere.

 

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Clark stood in the smoldering heat, driving posts into the ground of the small Skywalker farm. No machinery was needed. With his strength, Clark easily drove each beam deep within the planet's dry surface. He continued the job with relative ease before something caught his eye. Above the planet, he saw an Imperial Destroyer. It was flying in pursuit of a much smaller ship. It's lasers were firing forth at full blast. Using his extraordinary sight, Clark honed in on the hull of the smaller ship and read the name Tantive IV.

Squinting his eyes, Clark looked harder, now able to see through the walls and view what was happening within the ship. Two droids were moving in a panicked mode, the larger one's features showing more concern than the smaller. The large droid was tall and lanky, with a gold colored metallic covering; the smaller had a barrel-like build and rolled on three wheels.

Focusing once again, Clark now used his super hearing to listen in on the events occurring aboard the large ship.

"R2, we are surely doomed this time," spoke C-3PO.

R2-D2 responded with a series of bleeps and blips, obviously meant to calm the nerves of his jumpy counterpart.

The two continued down a long corridor, ducking around a corner, as they saw a string of Rebellion troopers crouch into sniper position.

Moments after the droids had removed themselves, a door suddenly blew open with a massive explosion. As it was penetrated, an immediate flow of Imperial Stormtroopers began a march through. Covered in white body armor with black trim, the troopers set off a barrage of blaster shots. The Rebellion troopers returned fire, as many from both sides fell to the ground, breathing their last breaths. Once the firing had subsided, a dark, imposing figure stepped into sight, commanding all with his mere presence.  
Clark had heard of Darth Vader, but he had never seen the Sith Lord. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the man he had heard such horrific things about.

As Vader was advancing, a woman of equal importance to the Rebellion was rushing to carry out her mission, elsewhere aboard the ship. Princess Leia Organa was young and attractive, in a flowing white robe, with buns pinning her hair alongside her head. From her appearance, you would not know that she was the most prominent figure aboard the Tantive IV.

Knowing that the powerful Sith had boarded the ship, the princess acted quickly, realizing that the Rebellion's entire mission was in jeopardy. The Rebel Alliance had managed to intercept plans for a space station of devastating proportions that the Empire was building. The project held the menacing title, 'Death Star.' Frantic to protect the acquisition, the princess hurried forward. Spotting R2-D2, she quickly jammed a disc between a small opening in the droid's frame. It not only contained the plans for The Death Star, but a message to an old enemy of the Empire that she hoped to enlist in the Rebellion's battle to overthrow the evil dictators of the galaxy. C-3PO looked on from a short distance, unaware of what was happening.

 

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As R2 rolled off, he had a singular purpose in mind. C-3PO, on the other hand, followed reluctantly, complaining every step of the way.

As the two droids traveled through one area of the ship, Darth Vader had cornered it's captain in another. Now standing in a still position, Vader appeared more menacing than when he had first walked through the halls. His body was entirely covered in black armor, with several switches and control knobs. In reality, there was little body left to cover. Years earlier, Vader had met certain defeat at the hands of a Jedi Master. The battle left the young man nearly dead. This armored suit was all that had allowed him to survive. But that was years earlier, and the man that now stood on the Tantive IV had grown to be a Sith Lord of great power.

The sight of this hulking figure brought shivers through Clark as he continued to watch the events aboard the Tantive IV unfold. Seeing that Vader was about to speak, Clark focused closer, tuning in to hear what was going to be said.

Breathing heavily, Darth Vader commanded, "Where are the plans you intercepted?"

The captain vehemently denied any knowledge of such an interception.  
Vader stood, still and calm, cape dangling upon his back. He could sense the man was lying and had determined that the man would speak or die. In truth, the captain knew that Vader would kill him regardless. With this knowledge, he refused to say a word. He did momentarily reconsider his stance, as Darth Vader wrapped his large hand around his neck, hoisting high above the ground.

Gasping for breath, the ship's leader spat out, "I don't know of any plans. We are a consular ship on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan."

Vader angrily retorted, "If you are a consular ship, then where is the Ambassador?" Tiring of this man's insolence, Vader twisted his hand, instantly snapping the captain's neck. He held the lifeless body for a few moments as an example to others, before dropping it to the ground.

Clark winced at the sight. He turned his head, shutting down his super senses to avoid seeing anything more.

Still aboard, Vader bellowed, "I want those plans," as Stormtroopers scattered in every direction. Before they were fully gone from his presence, he added, "Bring me every passenger on this ship. I want them taken alive."  
R2-D2 and C-3PO were oblivious to these goings on, as they continued their rapid stroll through the corridors. At present, R2 had stopped outside a shuttle pod. He promptly climbed into it's small compartment. C-3PO complained vigorously, stating that he would never board the tiny escape vessel. His decision quickly changed as a blast went off at a close distance.

Once inside, R2 set the pod to launch and just like that, the two were off the Tantive IV and floating through space.

The pilot of the following Imperial Destroyer nearly chose to open fire, but sensors indicated that no life forms were on board. So, ruling the pod as a misfire, he ignored it and kept on course following the consular ship.

 

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Legions of Stormtroopers dutifully followed Lord Vader's orders, combing the Tantive IV thoroughly in search of anybody on board. It was beginning to look as though their invasion of the ship had eliminated it's entire crew until Princess Leia was spotted crouching in a corner, blaster tight in hand.

"Look, there's one," a Stormtrooper spat out the statement.

Leia got off one shot. It was an effective one, as a Stormtrooper fell to the ground lifeless. The others thought of returning the favor, but remembered Lord Vader's command to bring him anyone they found alive. He wanted answers, not bodies. For now.

The usually red beams of blaster fire were replaced with a blue circular pulse as the trooper's gun had been set to stun. Lying helpless, paralyzed, the princess was now at the mercy of Vader's henchman.

The effects of a stun shot do not last long, but it did allow enough time for the troopers to strap Princess Leia's wrists in cuffs. They were loose and if not for the fact that she was surrounded by four armed captors, she may have attempted an escape. With the situation as it were, she chose to fall in line, marching down the corridors, amidst the armored men. 'Perhaps, I may get some information that could be useful to the Rebel Alliance,' thought Leia. Regardless, she had fully determined that she would not breathe a word of the plans they had intercepted or anything that could harm her party's mission.

Finishing their journey, Leia was marched directly to the feet of the Sith Lord. She looked at him defiantly, not willing to give him the pleasure that she knew she was in a compromising position.

With a smug look firmly in place, Princess Leia spoke defiantly, "Darth Vader, only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear that you attacked a diplomatic..." The princess had rehearsed every word of what she intended to say all throughout the walk down the corridors, knowing full well she would end up in the presence of the Sith Lord. He did not let her finish.

"Don't act so surprised, your highness" he cut in. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time. Several transmissions were beamed aboard this ship by rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Princess Leia lied, "I am a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan. The princess hoped she did not look as nervous as she felt.

Anger having grown, Darth Vader stated loudly and matter of factly, "You are part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. Take her away!" he demanded.

On cue, the Stormtroopers once again obeyed the commands of their leader. They were trained to do so. And they fulfilled their training well. The small group marched the princess out of his presence.

Attempting to walk away, Darth Vader was approached by a man in a dark uniform, bearing the insignia of the Imperial forces. He was an older man, sickly and pale in appearance. The fact that he stood well over six feet tall was not evident, as Vader's frame hovered over him.

Grand Moff Tarkin spoke to Vader in a way that few others would dare, "Holding her is dangerous. If word of this gets out, it could generate sympathy for the rebellion in the Senate."

Vader did not bother to stop walking as he responded, "I have traced the rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link to finding their hidden base."

"She will die before she tells you anything."

"Leave that to me," Vader stated fully intending to ultimately fulfill that promise of death. "Send a distress signal and inform the Senate that all aboard were killed."

Vader looked quite annoyed as an officer of low rank stepped into his presence and began to speak. If not for what he said, the Sith Lord may have chosen to kill him just for the mere boldness of approaching him unannounced.

"Lord Vader," the irrelevant man spoke, "battle station plans are not on board this ship. And no transmissions were made. An escape pod was ejected during the fighting, but no life forms were detected."

"She must have hidden the plans in the escape pod. Send an attachment down to retrieve them, Commander," Vader spoke the rank into existence as he said it, choosing to elevate the man's position in the Empire for his diligent report. The new officer straightened his slouched stance, as a quick rush of pride came over his body. "There will be no one to stop us this time."

 

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Clark had had one good friend on Tatooine. Sure, there were plenty of other kids his age and they were friendly with one another; even spent time together. But none of them understood Clark the way Biggs did. Biggs understood Clark's feelings of a higher purpose in life. Most others were content to just stay on this small sector of Tatooine for the rest of their days. But, Biggs, like Clark, wanted to get out and explore the galaxy. He wanted to do bigger things; to have greater experiences.

The two embraced warmly, as Clark answered the door. There was a clear excitement on his face, as he saw his old friend standing there.

"Biggs. Man, what are you doing here?" Clark enthralled.

"I finished my training at the Academy. I'm on break, so I hopped the first transport I could on over here. How have things been on the dirt farm?"

"They sure haven't been the same without you around here," Clark stated, his voice started to show a bit of lament.

The two began to walk, discussing old times, laughing, enjoying each other's friendship.

Within a short time, they had rehashed all their significant memories. This is when Biggs began to tell tales of the adventures he had at the Academy.

At first, Clark was excited, hearing all the experiences his friend had had, but after a while, he began to think of himself. Thoughts turned to whether or not he would ever get off this farm. His smile faded in a visible way.

"Cheer up, Farm Boy," Biggs encouraged, "You'll be at the Academy in the fall."

"Ya," Clark's voice told Biggs that would not be the case.

"What's wrong?"

"Well," Clark paused, "I had to withdraw my application."

Biggs looked ready to speak, but Clark continued on before he had the chance, "I'll get there. It's just Uncle Owen needs my help here on the farm. Things are just starting to turn around. He says one more season and then I'll be off the following year."

"Listen, Clark," Biggs confronted in a way that was not off putting, "I know you want to stay and help your family. I get that. But guys like you and me, we're cut out for bigger things. Your uncle can run this farm by himself. That's just an excuse for you to not have to go out and take a chance in the world."

"I know, but," Clark hesitated.

"I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone else," Biggs softened and spoke quieter, "I'm not returning to the Academy."

"What?" Clark began to question, but Biggs continued on.

"When I get back, me and some of the other guys are going to hop on the first transport to the outer rim. We're going to join the Rebel Alliance."

"The Rebel Alliance," Clark part questioned and part spoke in awe.  
Clark had heard of the Rebel Alliance. Tales of the group of resisters that were going up against the Empire, trying to take down the evil dictatorship. In theory, the small band didn't stand a chance, but yet, time and again, word came of them having small victories, making little kinks in the massive armor of the Empire.

"Ya," Biggs continued, "I'm not going to sit around and just wait until the Empire comes to the Academy and drafts me into their service. I have to get out and do something I believe in while I still can."

As Biggs mentioned the Empire, Clark thought about mentioning what he had witnessed aboard the Tantive IV, but chose to withhold the information. Nobody knew of Clark's supernatural powers; not even Biggs. If he were to tell him what he saw, he would have no way to explain how without giving up his secret.

Instead, Clark focused his mind on what Biggs had told him. He had never thought of joining the Rebellion. But now, as his friend spoke of it, Clark knew it was a large part of his destiny. He knew he would join his friend again. Soon.

 

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The pod carrying R2-D2 and C-3PO came crashing down into the sands of Tatooine. The landing was a bit rough, but all their parts managed to stay intact and continue functioning. With the mere push of a button, the two droids found themselves free from their means of escape.

The heat of Tatooine's double suns beat down on the two, causing immediate discomfort. True, the twin suns of Tatooine were the same two that provided light for most of the planet's within their particular part of the galaxy, but they did not shine down closer or hotter anywhere else than they did on Tatooine. It wasn't long before C-3PO had taken to complaining.

"What a desolate place this is. We seem to be made to suffer. It is our lot in life," he whined.

R2-D2 responded with his usual sounding bleeps and blips. For most, these sounds were just that; unintelligible chirps that meant little more than mere sound. C-3PO, however, being a protocol droid programmed for translation, understood every word the small R2 unit spoke. The two continued on their journey through the blazing heat until they came to an impasse. Through a series of chirps, R2-D2 insisted on going in one direction.

"I am not going that way," responded C-3PO, "That way is covered in rocks and caverns. This way is much smoother." He pointed in the opposite direction to indicate his intended route.

Another round of electronic sounds from his friend confused C-3PO. "What do you mean, your mission?"

C-3PO was still unaware of the fact that Princess Leia had inserted a disc into the R2 unit. R2-D2, however, was very aware not only of the disc, but of it's contents and it's intended recipient. He knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was present somewhere on this sand covered planet. Though he did not know exactly where, he was certain he was supposed to head in that specific direction to find him. In fact, it was the force that was leading the small R2 unit.

"Well, you go that way if you'd like. I'm going in this direction. And don't you try following me," 3PO spat out indignantly.

"Adventure? I have had quite enough adventure for one lifetime, thank you," came C-3Po's reply.

With that, the two droids set off in opposite directions; R2 going west and C-3PO east. It was not long before the protocol droid began to regret his decision. With no one to complain to, as was his normal demeanor, C-3PO spoke to himself.

"That R2, he tricked me into going this direction."

He had begun to contemplate just lying in the sand and waiting for his components to malfunction. This was likely what was going to happen if he continued traveling in this heat anyway. So, why bother? It was at that moment, that he spotted a group in the distance; an apparent caravan of travelers. Excited at the possibility of rescue from this dreadful heat, he began to wave his arms, calling to the onlookers for help. Help is not what he would get.

Meanwhile, R2 was not enjoying the extreme temperature either, but he had always kept a much more cheerful outlook than his companion. He continued rolling on in hopes of finding the Jedi Master to which he would play the princess' message. Continuing on, he paused for a moment, thinking he saw movement from above in the neighboring dunes. He dismissed it as light flickering off some type of surface. He began to roll again, when rocks suddenly tumbled down form the same spot, making him think perhaps someone was there after all. Maybe it was C-3PO. He often came to his senses and reunited their partnership after short periods of time. R2 paused, looking to see if it was in fact his friend looking down upon him. In that moment, a small creature appeared from apparently nowhere, pulling a long staff and using it to release a power surge that covered R2 in blue light. The small droid found himself instantly paralyzed.

R2 tried to resist. He wanted to continue his journey, but his efforts were futile. He was powerless to put up any type of defense. He now got a clear look at his captor. He was short, approximately the same height as R2-D2 himself, and covered in a hooded cloak that only allowed you to see his glowing red eyes. R2 once more tried to mount some sort of defense, but all he got for his efforts was a face full of sand as he toppled over head first to the ground. The Jawa was now joined by a band of brothers that carried R2 off into the distance.

 

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R2-D2 remained in a near comatose state throughout the entire ordeal. He could see and feel what was happening around him, but he was entirely incapable of movement. The Jawas took full advantage of this, carrying R2 for what appeared to be a long amount of time. He was not sure. Everything was rather blurred in the little droid's mind. What he was aware of was that the vehicle they had just approached was a Sand Crawler. He knew what that meant.

Sand crawlers were massive vehicles, measuring nearly twenty five feet in height and much longer in width. They were widely known throughout the galaxy to be used for two things. One was as a fortress for prisoners. The other was to harvest scrap metal. Neither prospect sounded particularly attractive to R2-D2. He was placed beneath the monstrous craft and, within moments, was sucked aboard the steel sided crate by a powerful magnetic force. The suction apparently zapped whatever coherence R2 had left because everything now went black.

R2-D2 remained in a state of shutdown for nearly two days. If he had had any coherence, he would have wondered if he had become permanently damaged. But, alas, he awoke and found himself to be back in full control of his functions. He immediately noticed the round piece of metal the Jawas had attached to his mid section. He recognized it as a tracking device. If he were to try to make an escape, this would not only tell the Jawas where he was, but would also allow them the power to once again shut him down. This would make his quest to find Obi-Wan Kenobi much more difficult.

Now functioning, R2 decided to take a stroll around his new environment. The vast majority of inhabitants were droids like himself. They were unfamiliar and foreign to him, but nonetheless he thought it wise to attempt to make contact. He sent forth a series of bleeps and blips in an attempt to introduce himself to the others on board. No one seemed to understand what he was saying. Either that, or they were just choosing to ignore his friendliness. Regardless, R2 thought it wise to continue throughout the ship in an attempt to make contact. He knew there was no way he could escape by himself, but perhaps if he could enlist a few others, they just might stand a chance.

The continued attempts at communication flew forth from R2-D2's mechanical frame. No matter how far he rolled through the massive ship, no other droid (or being) aboard seemed to pay him any mind. Until suddenly, he heard a familiar voice.

"R2?" came the questioning voice of C-3PO. "R2-D2 that is you," he declared.

Excitement showed in his voice, as C-3PO rushed to the side of his long time friend. He placed his hand on R2's small body in a sort of semi-embrace. So gladdened to see a familiar face, C-3PO had completely forgotten about his prior thoughts of R2 tricking him into going in the wrong direction.

The two spoke for a long period of time, plotting how they could get free from this awful predicament. Of course, R2 was much more optimistic than his counterpart. Although, knowing the danger of the situation, C-3PO did lend a reluctant hand. His knowledge of multiple languages helped them recruit a few others. A plan was put in place. As soon as the ship docked, they would make their break for freedom.

 

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R2-D2 and C-3PO were not the only passengers aboard the Tantive IV that wound up on the surface of Tatooine. As the two captive droids were being dragged along inside the Sand Crawler, a group of Stormtroopers were traveling the same ground on the backs of dragon like creatures.

Dewbacks had been chosen to accompany them on this mission because of their build and instincts. Their large, scaly frames made them one of the few creatures that stood impervious to the heat of Tatooine. The Stormtroopers knew that carrying out Darth Vader's mission to retrieve the plans from the ejected pod could take days; even weeks. Tatooine was a relatively small planet, but an ejection from space could have landed anywhere on this planet's surface. In addition, Dewbacks provided the added bonus that they were natural trackers. These creatures would hopefully cut down the amount of time it would take to find their objective.  
For three long days, the troopers searched the sandy terrain to no avail.

And then, there it was. The pod sat in the distance. It was half buried from the impact of the landing, which made it hard to spot, but it was definitely the pod.

It's immediate sight brought fear, rather than rejoicing, into Vader's henchmen. Before even reaching the craft, it was clear to see that it was no longer sealed. This was not a good sign in regard to completing the task assigned to them by the Sith Lord. He had commanded them to retrieve the plans that had been aboard that vessel. Seeing the pod door open made the troopers realize the plans would likely no longer be inside. Their fears were confirmed as they approached and searched the craft's interior.

With this revelation, the group's leader contemplated not returning. Hearing the news of the lost plans would certainly cost him his life. Darth Vader did not take well to bad news and was known to release his anger on those that delivered it to him. Seeing that this was his job, he began thinking it may be better to serve out his days on this desert wasteland, scavenging for food and trying to endure the scorching heat, rather than facing the angered Sith Lord. He walked to the side, slightly away from the others to be alone with his thoughts. That's when he saw something.

"Come here. Look at this," he announced.

The others fell in line, coming quickly to his side. They all saw the same sight he had; tracks in the sand. One set of footprints and a second trail of three rolling lines.

"Droids," he announced, examining the tracks. "The plans must have been inserted into a droid."

With that, the small entourage, remounted their beasts and began to follow. This worked well until they came to a fork, one set of tracks leading to the west; the other east. The only logical conclusion was to divide their party and cover each route.

 

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The large Sand Crawler came to an abrupt stop, as the Jawas spotted a small, circular farmhouse. Such dwellings were known to need robotic help and often made great places to unload their droid merchandise. R2-D2 and C-3PO were ushered off at gun point, along with most of the ship's other captives. To their chagrin, two of those they had made escape plans with were left on board. C-3PO gave R2 a troubled look, conveying that they would have to come up with another idea. And quickly.

The smaller droid's attention was drawn to the two men standing alongside the house. The jet black hair and steel blue eyes of the younger man seemed to call out to him in a way that made him know that their future's were somehow entwined with one another. Sure enough, the Jawas approached the two men.

Even from a distance, it was clear that the potential purchase of droids was being discussed. And, within moments, the older man started moving in their general direction. Clark stood behind. For a long moment R2-D2 and Clark Skywalker froze in a long glance toward one another. Clark immediately recognized this droid as the same one he had seen aboard the Tantive IV. But what was it doing here on Tatooine?

"Clark!" Aunt Beru's call broke the stare.

Clark trotted to the backfields of the farm in response to his Aunt.

"Tell Uncle if he gets a translator, make sure it speaks Bocce," she continued.

Uncle Owen was about to begin a conversation with C-3PO when Clark arrived. The young man froze before conveying Aunt Beru's message. He now recognized this droid as the other he had seen aboard the ship that was invaded by Darth Vader.

"I suppose you're programmed for etiquette protocol," he asked, hoping it wasn't the case.

"Protocol, why it's my primary function, Sir," replied C-3PO.

"I have no need for a protocol droid," Owen quipped, turning to leave.

Seeing his chance to escape slavery passing before him, C-3PO spoke quickly, hoping to come up with something that would convince the farmer to bring him home, "Certainly not, Sir. Not in an environment such as this..."

Owen cut in, "What I really need is a droid that understands the binary language of moisture evaporators."

Seeing his chance, C-3PO excitedly informed him, "Evaporators? Sir, my first job was programming binary rotors; very similar to your evaporators."

Remembering Beru's request, he asked, "Do you speak Bocce?"

"Why certainly. It's like a second language to me..."

"All right, enough," Owen broke in, already annoying of C-3PO's grovelling.

"I'll take this one," he spoke to the Jawa, "And the little red one too."

Clark had been standing off in the distance, wondering how these two droids had wound up on Tatooine. His thoughts were interrupted as his Uncle called, "Clark!" He hurried to his side, only to hear his Uncle instruct him, "Take these two to the garage. I want them cleaned by dinner."

"But Uncle Owen, I was going to the Tashi Station to pick up power converters," the young man began. Before continuing, he changed his thoughts. He would very much like to speak to this droid. Perhaps, he could find out some more information about the Empire. And the Rebellion Alliance.

His Uncle didn't really have to add, "You can waste time with your friends once your chores are done," as Clark was already convinced.

Clark rustled the two droids off toward the farm, wishing his Uncle had also chosen to purchase the blue R2 unit. Even as he had these thoughts, R2-D2, seeing what had transpired, started to become quite concerned. He not only saw his best friend being taken away, but this young man that he knew he was supposed to be with was leaving as well. He shifted from side to side in a nervous fit. A quick jolt to the device the Jawas had placed on him quieted him down.

Clark had only moved C-3PO and the little red droid a few feet, when the smaller robot began to malfunction.

"Uncle Owen," Clark called out. "This droid has a bad motivator. Look."

Seeing an opportunity to save his friend, C-3PO quickly spoke to Clark. Motioning toward R2-D2, he stated, "If I might, Sir. That R2 unit really is in excellent condition and a fine bargain."

Clark, realizing that C-3PO was referring to the R2 unit he recognized, quickly implored his Uncle, "Hey, Uncle Owen. How about that one?"

Uncle Owen quickly made the exchange and, within moments, R2-D2, C-3PO and Clark Skywalker strolled off together. At that time, the three had no idea how great an adventure they were about to embark upon.

 

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The Stormtroopers continued tracking their prey. Those two droids were somewhere on this planet. And, along with them, were the plans for The Death Star. The troopers were well aware they must be found at all costs. Their very lives depended on it.

The two parties had traveled nearly equal distances, albeit in opposite directions, before they each came to the same dead end. The footprints of each droid eventually came to a stop at illogical places. There were no dwellings for them to have entered; no caves to have provided cover. In fact, each track ended in areas of apparent desolate isolation. This would make no sense, if not for the fact that dozens of smaller footprints appeared in place of each droid.

A transmitter was pulled out and a message was conveyed from one party to another, each confirming their similar findings. The two groups arranged to meet at a certain location among the dunes.

"What do you make of the tracks?" questioned the leader of one party.

"It must be Jawas. We will have to pursue," came the response.

The Stormtroopers knew very little about the planet Tatooine, but they were versed enough to know of a race of desert dwelling nomads, known as the Jawas. Jawas were tiny creatures, known to barely stand one meter tall. They were scavengers by nature, picking up and selling anything they could get their hands on. Although they were known to travel in large groups, they were also reportedly very skittish and quick to avoid any type of physical confrontation. The troopers determined they could use either of these traits to elicit the information they desired. Surely, the Jawas would love to get their hands on a piece of Stormtrooper armor or a blaster gun; either of which would trade for a fair amount of money. If that did not evoke the desired response, the troopers would then resort to a physical confrontation.

It did not take long to find the nomadic tribe. They were gathered mere miles away, alongside the still parked Sandcrawler. The Jawas beloved method of transportation looked like a heap of trash to the Stormtroopers, who were used to traveling in much newer and nicer vehicles.

Seeing the Stormtroopers arrive, the Jawas timid nature took over. Though they were not familiar with what these creatures were, it was not difficult to surmise that they posed a significant threat.

The Stormtrooper's group leader approached the Jawas and spoke, "We are looking for two droids. They landed on this planet aboard a pod that was released from our ship."

The Jawa language was a difficult one. Many linguists had tried to decipher it for years but since it consisted not only of spoken words but of scents emitted from the Jawas' bodies, such attempts had proven impossible to any other being. In addition to Jawaese, the Jawas had developed a sort of trade language they used to barter with the other inhabitants of Tatooine. The small group tried using this language to answer the troopers' inquiries. Even this simplified language proved too complex for the Empirical henchmen.

After several attempts at communication failed, it was realized that getting information from the Jawas would not be possible. Infuriated by the situation, the Stormtroopers turned their blasters on the small group, obliterating them from existence.

Clark reluctantly performed the task of cleaning the droid's as his Uncle had instructed. He did the best he could, but his mind was still on the conversation he had had with Biggs. Specifically, Clark's thoughts were on the idea of joining the Rebel Alliance. Ever since Biggs had mentioned it, he could think of little else. Somehow, he just knew this was part of the destiny; the destiny that he knew would someday take him off this farm.

He began to voice his thoughts. "I'm never going to get out of here," he lamented.

C-3PO was being lowered into a cleaning mechanism as he responded, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you can transport me off this planet."

"I don't believe I can do that. Not on this planet, anyhow," 3PO responded, not catching the sarcasm in Clark's statement, "As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure what planet I'm on."

"Let's just say it may have two suns, but that doesn't make it the bright spot of the galaxy," Clark snapped.

It was unusual for Clark to have such a negative attitude, but the recent events had him feeling more trapped than he ever had before. He still felt the loyalty to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru that he always had, but more so than ever he felt a desire to get out in the world and do more. What was the point of having all his powers if he couldn't use them to help people? He knew he could be a great aid in the war against the Empire...if he could just get off this farm.

Clark continued his duty of cleaning the droids, debating about whether or not he cared to continue talking out his thoughts or keeping them to himself. C-3PO, on the other hand, had no reluctance to speak. He continued on a conversation that could very well have been one sided, each time addressing Clark as Sir.

"You can call me Clark."

"Thank you, Sir Clark," C-3PO politely accepted.

"Just Clark," he laughed.

"Thank you, Sir. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations," he informed, already reverting back to the titular respect he was programmed to speak with,

"And this is my counterpart, R2-D2."

Clark muttered out a lackluster hello. His focus was elsewhere. While cleaning R2, Clark had noticed something jammed within a small open space on the droid. He was now fierce at work, trying to pry it loose. After a moment's time of performing the duty like any normal man, he decided it would hurt nothing to use his powers in front of the droids. He used two fingers to easily open the space and, doing so, a holographic image immediately shot forth from R2-D2.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope," the image of Princess Leia spoke.

Confused by the message, Clark played it back several times. He immediately recognized the princess as the woman he had seen on board the Tantive IV. Something about her drew him. It wasn't romantic, but somehow familiar.

"Who is she?" he finally muttered.

"I believe she was aboard our last mission," came the response.

"I know. I saw her," Clark replied absentmindedly.

"You what?" asked the droid.

"Oh, never mind," Clark dismissed. "Could you play the rest of the message?"

The question was directed at R2, who responded with his normal sounding series of bleeps and blips.

"He says he is the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi; an inhabitant of these parts," C-3PO interpreted. "I have no idea what he's talking about. Our last master was Captain Antilles. But, with all we've been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric."

"Obi-Wan?" Clark pondered. "I wonder if he means Old Ben Kenobi."

"Do you know of who he speaks?"

"Well, I don't know anyone named Obi-Wan, but Old Ben lives over near The Dune Sea. He's sort of a strange, old hermit." This whole scenario was beginning to intrigue Clark.

C-3PO translated to Clark that R2 may be able to play the entire message back if he removed the tracker the Jawas had placed on him. Hoping to hear the rest of the message, Clark quickly obliged, snapping the piece of metal off with his bare hands like it was a twig. To his chagrin, the message now went completely blank.

"Hey, where'd she go? Play back the entire message," Clark demanded.

R2 feigned ignorance, acting as though he did not know of any message.

"What do you mean, what message?" C-3PO spoke, striking the R2 unit lightly, "The one you have just been playing."

Before being able to question the droid further, Aunt Beru called out to Clark. He left the two droids in an annoyed huff.

"You know, I think that R2 unit might be stolen."

"Oh, what makes you say that?" his uncle questioned.

"He says he belongs to someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Owen and Beru exchanged a quick knowing glance. Years earlier, they had determined that they would keep Ben out of Clark's life unless the need became absolutely necessary. As the years progressed, it had looked like that day would never come.

Immediately realizing what she meant, Clark directed his vision toward the meal she was preparing. The blue liquid sat on a pot atop the stove. As he focused, a beam of red light shot forth from his eyes in that direction. The heat from the beam brought the food to an instant boil and Beru began to ladle it into bowls. She then brought the bowls to the two men before seating herself at the table.

With his thoughts back on the topic at hand, Clark questioned, "I wonder if he means Old Ben Kenobi?"

"Ben is just a crazy old man," Uncle Owen muttered. "Tomorrow we'll take the unit to have his memory erased. That will be the end of it. He belongs to us."

"But what if this Obi-Wan comes looking for it?"

"He won't," Owen replied, tiring of this conversation, "I don't think he exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father."

Clark immediately jumped to attention, "He knew my father?"

"Forget it," Owen snapped. "Your only concern is to prepare those droids for service."

Seeing that his uncle wanted to change the subject, Clark seized the opportunity, "I think those droids are going to work out fine. In fact, they have me rethinking our agreement. I'd like to transmit my application to the Academy this year instead of next season."

"You mean the next semester before the harvest?" his uncle implored.

"Harvest is when I need you most."

"But with the new droids..."

Uncle Owen cut him off, "With the money we make from this harvest I can hire some more hands and you can apply next year, as we planned."

"But that's a whole other year," Clark contemplated as he spoke.

"It's only one more season."

Clark began to get up from the table. He had heard this promise before. For the past two years in fact. He had always taken these empty promises in stride. But now, with his thoughts generated toward joining the Rebel Alliance, Clark was beginning to feel restless. He knew it was his time to move on. And he was beginning to think his Uncle would never allow this. He left the room silently.

This entire time, Aunt Beru had sat quietly, but she now felt it was time to speak.

"Owen, you can' t keep him here forever. Clark is not a farmer, no matter how much you want him to be. He has too much of his father in him."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Owen muttered quietly.

Knowing the significance of this, the two quietly turned to their meal. They finished the food in silent contemplation.

 

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Clark stepped out of the house, full of frustration. The thought entered his mind that he should just leave right now, hop on a transport and arrive at The Academy by morning. As quickly as he had the thought, he dismissed it. As much as he wanted to leave the farm, as much as he wanted to move on to the next phase of his life, Clark knew he could never abandon his aunt and uncle in their time of need. This is what frustrated him most. If only there was a way he could get free from his obligation to them.

His thoughts changed, as Clark looked up at the two suns. They were beginning to set. Twilight truly was a beautiful sight on Tatooine; perhaps the only beautiful sight the planet had to offer. Clark lost himself in the celestial vision, but this time was different than the hundreds of times he had seen it before. This time he looked beyond. This time he saw past the two suns. He saw into a galaxy; a galaxy he longed to explore. He wondered what adventures lie on those other worlds. And he wondered if he would ever get to experience them.

Frustration was about to set in again, when a noise distracted Clark from his thoughts.

"Hey, who is that?" Clark questioned.

A very nervous looking C-3PO emerged from behind a rock, where he had been hiding.

"3PO, is that you? What are you hiding from?"

"Oh, please don't blame me. It wasn't my fault. I tried to stop him," the droid pleaded.

"You have got to be kidding me," Clark announced, realizing what was being said.

Clark quickly focused his eyes. Using his super vision, he began to scan the dunes, searching for R2-D2. He knew Uncle Owen would be furious if his newly purchased droid got away. And that could be just the excuse he could use to keep Clark on the farm for even longer. "You're not responsible enough," he would tell Clark. "And now that we're short that R2 unit you let get away, I need you here on the farm more than ever." He wasn't about to let that happen. Continuing to use his super vision, Clark was determined to find R2.

Unaware that Clark was using his powers to try and locate the droid, C-3PO questioned, "Should we not go look for him?"

There were very few creatures that Clark feared. His supernatural powers gave him an advantage over just about any other living thing on Tatooine. The Tusken Raiders were the one exception. Known commonly as Sand People, the Raiders were small like the Jawas, however, unlike them, they certainly were not timid. The Tusken Raiders were bold in their attacks. And, for some reason, Clark seemed to lose his powers in their presence. He found this out in a near fatal attack some years earlier.

Clark had no choice. It was dark enough that there was not much likelihood that anyone would see him. And being off the ground, he wouldn't have to worry about the Raiders. Looking around to make sure no one was in sight, Clark picked up C-3PO and began to fly.

"My word, Sir. This is something I have never experienced in all my years," C-3PO stammered.

"Just hold on. We'll find R2 in no time."

Continuing to focus his super vision, Clark flew over the sand dunes of Tatooine. There was little to be seen at night. Most people on the planet were farmers and, thus, went to bed at early hours. If R2 was out there, he should be easy to spot. And, sure enough, before long, Clark zoned in on the small droid.

Touching down from his flight, C-3PO climbed off, looking himself over in a worried fashion to make sure he was still in one piece. R2-D2 stood in place, not seeming to show any sign of surprise that his two friends had just settled down from the sky. He set off a series of beeps.

"Master Clark is our rightful owner now," C-3PO stated, "I've heard enough of this Obi-Wan Kenobi and your supposed mission. You're coming back with us where you belong."

R2 began to shift from side to side, shaking in a concerned manner.

"What is it?" Clark questioned.

"He senses danger," C-3PO informed.

Clark, once again, activated his super vision, scanning the immediate area. "I see a couple Bantas, but there are no Sand People in sight."

No sooner had Clark spoken the words, than a Tusken Raider jumped out in front of him. Looking at the creature's staff-like weapon, Clark suddenly felt weak. There was something about the green colored staff that seemed to strip Clark of all his powers. The last thing he saw was darkness, as the weapon came down upon his head.

 

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The Sand People stood, meticulously picking apart the body of C-3PO. He would be worth more in parts than fully assembled. They soon would have begun to do the same to Clark, if not for a shadowy figure that stepped forward from the neighboring dunes. Seeing the tall man, the Tusken Raiders scattered in various directions. As they did so, Clark's powers began to return. He opened his eyes to see the man, covered in a hooded cloak.

The long brown robe was old and worn; covered in the sands of Tatooine and dim in color from years of the twin suns beating down upon it. He removed his hood, revealing an elderly man with snow white hair and beard.

"Ben Kenobi?" Clark questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Come now. Since the Kryptonite lined weapons of the Tusken Raiders have been removed, you'll be fine," Ben stated plainly.

"Kryptonite?" asked Clark.

"It is a fragment from your birth planet. Never mind that. What brings you so far out to these parts, young Clark?" Ben was quick to change the subject.

Clark turned toward R2-D2, "This little R2 unit. It appears he's going to cause me a heap of trouble." Pausing, Clark added, "He says he belongs to someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi. I thought you might know who he meant."

Ben paused and stepped back. He felt an intense flow of emotions come over him, as he heard the name. Feelings of happiness, as he remembered good times. Feelings of sorrow, from the thoughts of what was lost. Feelings of failure and betrayal from what had happened so many years ago.

"Obi-Wan," he pondered solemnly, "I have not heard that name in many years. Not since before you were born."

"Then you do know him," Clark queried.

"I should say so. He," Ben paused, "is me."

Clark was not particularly surprised by the admission. Somehow, he had known Old Ben was Obi-Wan all along. Part of him had never doubted that fact.

"Then the droid is yours?" Clark surrendered.

"Funny. I don't recall ever owning a droid." Quickly changing the subject, Obi-Wan added, "Come with me. The Sand People are easily startled, but they'll soon be back. And in greater number."

The two got up, fully intending to leave the area. A series of bleeps and blips from R2-D2 brought them back to reality. C-3PO was still in a shambles from the attack. One arm had been removed and a sizable dent now stood implanted in his head, but he still appeared to be fully functional.

"Are you able to travel?" Obi-Wan asked, "We can get that arm reattached back at my home."

"Just leave me behind," C-3PO whined, "I am done for."

"No you're not. What kind of talk is that?" laughed Clark, shaking his head at the droid's pessimism.

The two men lifted the droid and carried him beyond the dunes to the home of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Once inside, the old man began to reassemble the golden droid. The ease with which he did so caught the attention of Clark. He had never seen anyone else move with such grace and speed. No one other than himself.

"I haven't been called by the name Obi-Wan since I left the planet Krypton." the old man spoke to Clark.

"Krypton?"

"The planet on which you were born. I was once a citizen of the planet myself. I was a Jedi Knight there. Same as your father," Obi-Wan explained.

Clark began to think the old man had become senile from years in the sun, as he listened to this tale.

"Jedi Knight? Planet Krypton? My father was a farmer right here on Tatooine," Clark responded, knowing deep within himself that what he was saying was not the truth, even as he spoke the words.

"That is what your uncle wanted you to believe. It was his way of protecting you, I suppose." Obi-Wan paused before adding, "Your father was a good friend. Which reminds me, I have something here for you."

Obi-Wan got up from his seat and walked toward a corner of the small room. There sat an old wooden trunk. If Clark did not know better he'd have sworn that the old man's hands never touched the latch, but rather that they just lightly passed over it as the trunk became unfastened. Opening it, Obi-Wan pulled out a smaller box and carried it toward Clark.

"This is from your father," Obi-Wan informed, pulling out the two items that Jor-el had placed in the ship with his infant son. "He wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your Uncle wouldn't allow it. He feared you may discover too much of your origins and go off on some wild crusade with old Obi-Wan."

"What are they?" Clark questioned.

"This," handing over what looked like a pipe, Obi-Wan stated, "was your father's light saber. This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight; not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon from a more civilized planet."  
Clark pushed a button. He was not startled at all as a beam of blue light shot forth forming the sight of an illuminated sword. Somehow, this weapon felt comfortable to Clark, familiar. He waved it around slowly, as Obi-Wan continued to talk.

"For more than a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times. Before The Empire."

Clark once again pushed the button, retracting the lightened sword, before asking, "What happened to the Jedi; to Krypton?"

"A young Jedi Knight, who was a pupil of mine before he turned to the dark side, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed your father and I. His name is Darth Vader," Obi-Wan informed.

Clark immediately flashed to the dark figure he had witnessed aboard the Tantive IV. He once again could see how Vader had snapped that man's neck with his bare hands. He could see it as clearly as if it were happening right before his eyes at this very moment.

"After carrying out his mission, Vader retreated from the planet Krypton. I followed, having felt the deep sting of betrayal and defeat. Years later, Krypton was destroyed of natural forces that took the life of your parents. That is how you wound up on Tatooine. You were sent as a means to save your life. Jor-el was the greatest man I've ever known; every bit as good as Vader is evil. Your father has become one with the force," Obi-Wan continued.

"The force?" Clark again questioned.

"The force is what gives a Jedi his powers. It's an energy field created by all living things that surrounds us and penetrates us. It aligns the entire galaxy together. Kryptonians were a highly force sensitive race, making them natural Jedi Knights."

The more Obi-Wan spoke, the more Clark realized that this man was far from senile. Instinctively, Clark knew that everything this man said was true. And this force, he spoke of. It made sense to Clark. He had always been able to know things before they could be known; always felt a connection with the universe as a whole. Hearing that he was a part of a race of people that was sensitive to this force made perfect sense to him. He knew it was the truth; that it was his truth.

Obi-Wan got up prompted by a sudden burst of bleeps and blips from R2. "Let's see if we can't figure out what you are, my friend. And where you came from?"

Before he could reach the droid, R2 began projecting the message from Princess Leia, now playing it in it's entirety.

"Greetings, General Kenobi. Years ago, you served my father in the clone wars," the princess' holographic image began, "Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against The Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and I'm afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of The Rebellion in the memory system of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid delivered safely to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are my only hope." With that final plea, the transmission ended.

Obi-Wan sat back, contemplating the ramifications of this message. It had been over twenty years since he had come to Tatooine, specifically choosing a life of seclusion. He had no desire to ever enter into battle again. And he would not consider doing so now, if not for one thing: his mission to aid Clark when the time arose. It was a request that had been sent to him in a message from Jor-el shortly before Clark's arrival on Tatooine. He knew this was the fruition of his old friend's request. He turned toward the young man with a knowing glance.

He held out the second item he had pulled from the trunk. "Your mother made this," he informed, unfolding a blue suit with a red cape attached to the backside. On the chest sat what looked like a large yellow S, enclosed in a diamond-like pattern.

"But why would I need to hide my identity?"

Ignoring the question, Obi-Wan stated, "You must learn the ways of the force, Clark, if you are to accompany me to Alderaan."

"Alderaan?" Clark spat out, arising. "I'm not going to Alderaan. It's late. I have to get home. I'm in for it as it is."

"I need your help, Clark. She needs your help," Obi-Wan said, motioning toward R2, "I'm getting too old for this sort of thing."

Clark wanted to help with every ounce of his being. Still, he found himself saying, "I can't get involved. I have work to do. It's not that I like The Empire. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do." He pondered, longing to go,

"It's such a long way from here."

"That's your uncle speaking," Obi-Wan retorted.

The words stung. Mainly because Clark knew them to be true. This man saw right through him. It was as if Old Ben knew his thoughts; his inner struggles. And maybe, just maybe, Obi-Wan knew what his destiny was.

"My uncle," Clark lamented, "How could I explain this to him?"

"Learn about the force, Clark."

The simple words burned deep in his soul. Clark wanted to go with Obi-Wan more than he had ever wanted to do anything before. Yet, there was that still nagging thought of showing loyalty to his aunt and uncle. But was that truly it? Or was it a fear of leaving the comfort of the home he had always known? A fear of what lay for him beyond; beyond the farm; beyond Tatooine.

"Look. I can take you to a transport. That can get you to Mos Eisley or wherever you're going," Clark finally spat out. He could not believe what he was saying.

"You must do what you feel is right, of course." Obi-Wan left it at that.

Clark knew that staying behind was not right; not right at all. Still, he was not ready to let go of his inner struggle. For as much as he had thought about leaving the farm; of fulfilling his destiny, now that the chance was being presented to him, he found himself simply unable to take it.

 

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Two of the highest ranking officials within the Empire sat at a large oval shaped table, discussing the situation at hand.

"The Rebel Alliance is too well equipped. They're more dangerous than you realize," spoke General Tagge.

"Dangerous to your starfleet, General. Not to this battle station," Admiral Motti snarled in response.

In truth, the two had never liked each other. They held a mutual respect for one another out of their similar allegiance to the Empire. However, their similarities ended there. General Tagge considered Admiral Motti arrogant. His unwillingness to listen to the input of others had put them into dangerous situations more than once over the years. Tagge was not about to let the admiral ignore what he had to say about a situation as serious as this.

"The rebellion will continue to gain support in the Imperial Senate..." General Tagge began to spit out, before being interrupted by the entering figures of Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin.

The Grand Moff cut in, "The Imperial Senate will no longer be of any concern to us. I have just received word that the Emperor has dissolved the council permanantly. The last remnants of the Old Republic have been swept away."  
Vader stood alongside Tarkin, breathing heavily, but remaining silent. The two took their place at the table. Vader locked eyes with Admiral Motti.

Motti despised the Sith Lord. He had spent his entire life working his way up to the rank of Admiral through loyalty and hard work and, in one day, the Emperor walked in, declaring this former Jedi as his highest official. Motti could not look at him without feeling total disdain. And he did little to try and hide his feelings.

"Impossible," General Tagge spoke hesitantly, concern showing in his voice.

"How will the Empire maintain control without the bureaucracy?"

"The regional governors now have control over their direct territories," responded Tarkin. "Fear will keep the local systems in line; fear of this battle station."

"And what of the Rebellion? If the rebels have attained a complete technical readout of the station, it is possible, however unlikely, that they might find a weakness and exploit it," stated the Admiral.

Vader could not listen silently any longer. Returning the vile he felt placed toward him by Admiral Motti, he spoke directly back to him, "These plans you speak of will soon be back in our hands."

General Tagge added his support, "Any attack by the Rebellion against The Death Star would be a useless gesture, no matter what technical data they may have obtained."

"This station is now the ultimate power in the universe. I suggest we use it," retorted Admiral Motti.

Darth Vader took offense to the Admiral's comment, "Don't be too confident in this technological peril you have constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the force."

Admiral Motti had had enough of the Sith Lord. Darth Vader had questioned his position far too often and he was not about to take it any longer. Standing from his chair, he angrily went on the offensive.

"Don't try to frighten us with your sorcerer's ways, Lord Vader," the Admiral spoke coyly, "Your sad devotion to this ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes or given you clairvoyance enough to find the rebel's hidden base."

Vader replied with a show of violence. Raising his right hand, he silently stared directly at Motti. Immediately, the Admiral stopped speaking. Reaching for his neck, he began to turn blue, obviously feeling the pressure from the choke that Darth Vader was applying through use of the force. The others remained silent for a long moment. It was only Vader himself who spoke a single line.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing."

Vader may well have snapped the Admiral's neck, if he had not gained a level of respect for Grand Moff Tarkin who implored him, "Enough of this. Release him."

"As you wish," came the simple response.

Admiral Motti fell, head down toward the table, gasping for breath. He had learned a valuable lesson. He still despised Darth Vader. He always would. But he would not again be foolish enough to challenge his power openly.

"This bickering is pointless," Tarkin spoke, "Lord Vader will provide us the location of the rebel fortress before this battle station is fully operational. We will then vanquish the rebels with one swift stroke."

With that, the room fell silent. For as much as the men in this room disliked one another, they still stood together in a common goal. The most important issue at hand was the destruction of the Rebel Alliance.

 

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Clark and Obi-Wan began the long trek back to the Skywalker farm, followed by the two droids. Once there, he would load the old hermit onto his Land Speeder and deliver him to Mos Eisley. Clark wanted to do nothing more than to pick up his companions and simply fly back the way he came.

However, although Obi-Wan had just told him of his origins, he was still not sure if the old man knew of his powers. And he was not about to expose himself in front of a man he knew so little about. So, a long walk in the blistering heat it was.

The small group walked for miles in relative silence. Clark continued to think of all Obi-Wan had said to him. He truly did want to go on this journey with the old man. He had dreamed of getting off the farm for years. He had felt the yearning to join the Rebel Alliance non stop since his conversation with Biggs. And now here he was being handed a golden opportunity to gain everything he had ever dreamed of and he was passing up the chance. His loyalty to his adoptive parents ran deeper and stronger than he had ever realized. He simply could not leave them in their time of need. And it was more than that. The truth is, Clark felt afraid to leave the comfort of all he had ever known. As much as he wanted to help others; as much as he felt his gifts were for the betterment of the galaxy, when it came right down to it, he was afraid to leave.

Clark's thoughts were interrupted, as C-3PO spoke, "My Lord. Master Clark, there appears to be smoke over on the horizon."

"Come on. Let's take a look," Obi-Wan chimed in, leading the way.

Upon arrival, the source of the smoke came into view in the form of a Jawa Sandcrawler.

"I believe this is the same craft we were aboard," C-3PO pondered.

R2 beeped in agreement.

Obi-Wan stood back, taking in a full view of the scene. The large vehicle was riddled with blaster shots. And the odd, green weapons of the Tusken Raiders were scattered all about the wreckage. He immediately knew something was wrong with this scene.

  
Clark began to move closer. As he did so, he felt himself weaken. He began to double over, feeling intense pain in his head and abdominals.

Remembering what Obi-Wan had told him about Kryptonite, Clark took a few steps back. Immediately, he felt better.

"It looks like the work of the Sand People. Although I've never known them to attack anything so large," Clark pronounced.

"What do you mean? This is clearly the work of the Sand People," Clark spoke.

"Look closer," Obi-Wan explained, "The tracks are side by side. The Sand People always travel in a straight line as to hide their number. And look at the blaster shots. They are far too precise to have been inflicted by the Tusken Raiders. The only people that could fire off shots so precise are Imperial Troopers."

"Imperial Troopers?" Clark questioned, "But what would be Imperial Troopers be doing on..."

Clark's thoughts took over before he was able to utter the word Tatooine. He suddenly began to think of the happenings he had witnessed aboard the Tantive IV. Suddenly it all made sense. The droids, the princess, the message. The Stormtroopers must be on Tatooine looking for R2-D2 and C-3PO.

Just as this realization hit him, Clark immediately made another, "If the troopers traced R2 and 3PO to the Jawas, they must have been able to..."

Clark dropped the rest of the thought. So overcome with concern for Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, he no longer cared about hiding his powers. Clark ran off toward his home at a speed greater than any form of transportation known to man. His speed was so great that all you could witness in his wake was a blur of scattered sand.

It was mere seconds before Clark's prior fears became a shocking reality. He arrived at the farm to see it engulfed in flames. Clark summoned his powers produced a powerful gust of breath that put out the fire. Smoke bellowed from the enclosure that had once been his home. Rushing forward, Clark reached for the door. The heat of the handle did not even faze him. Finding it locked, Clark used his superhuman strength to tear the door off it's hinges. He looked through the burnt embers of his home for a mere moment before discovering what he had hoped he would not find. There, fallen over what had once been their kitchen table were the charred bodies of the only parents he had ever known.

 

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Clark stood in place for an extended period of time, staring at the remains of his Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. He wanted to look away, but didn't seem able to. It was as if he was frozen in place for that moment in time. His mind was blank. Everything was blank. His emotions just seemed to shut down. His body felt stiff.

Clark's silent vigil was finally disrupted as a blurred motion of stirred up sand came toward him. He looked up at Obi-Wan. Clark wanted to speak; to say anything. But the words wouldn't come. His eyes quickly directed themselves back to the dead bodies.

"It's not your fault," Obi-Wan spoke, "There is no way you could have known."

"But if I was here, I could have..." It was at that moment that Clark realized that Obi-Wan had arrived at a speed similar to his own. "Did you just..." He stopped his sentence short once more, still disoriented from the scene at hand.

"Come, Clark. There is much we must discuss," Obi-Wan stated, "But first, let's go retrieve the droids"

Obi-Wan turned and left the house reluctantly, realizing there was nothing he could do to change the situation. Clark followed. Without being invited, Obi-Wan climbed into the Landspeeder parked out front.

"I think we have risked enough attention for one day," the old man stated.

Clark joined him, taking the driver's seat. Silently, the two began to glide over the surface of the scorched planet. It was a short time before the two reached the droids.

"I was beginning to think you'd left us behind for good," complained C-3PO.

A sharp glance from Obi-Wan told the protocol droid he should silence himself. He did so and climbed into the back of the vehicle. Clark got out and helped load R2 into the neighboring seat. Once loaded, Clark started the engine.

"Where do we go now?" He questioned.

Clark had the strangest feeling. For the past several years, he had dreamed of leaving the farm. He had truly believed that helping his aunt and uncle was the reason he had stayed behind, but now that they were gone, he was still reluctant to leave. Somehow, more than ever, he wanted to cling onto that farm. Yet, it was no longer there. There was nothing left to cling to.

Wanting to divert his mind from all the thoughts flooding it, Clark asked, "How did you run to the farm so fast? Do you have all the same powers as I do?"

"Yours and many more than you've ever imagined, Young Clark. It's time we have a talk. I told you of Krypton and your origins, but I have not told you everything. You see, you have powers far beyond any normal being. I'm sure you have learned this throughout your life. What you probably do not know is where your powers come from. You see, as I've told you, Kryptonians are a very force sensitive people, but those powers are magnified greatly here on Tatooine and the surrounding galaxy. The heat of the twin suns serves as a sort of energizer that enhances our natural abilities."

"So, my powers come from the twin suns?"

"Not exactly. Your powers come from your natural sensitivity to the force. The sun merely increases those sensitivities to a greater level, giving you greater powers than others could ever know. The suns make you a sort of superman. But there is much you don't know. What you are able to do; the powers you possess, such as strength and speed are natural to any Kryptonian, though enhanced by the suns. But," Obi-Wan paused, "There is much more of which you do not know; powers that can only come from knowledge of the force."

Without giving it much thought, Clark understood completely, "I will come with you to Alderaan. I want to learn the ways of the force and become a Jedi Knight like my father before me."

Obi-Wan took a long look at the boy. He wanted to train Clark. This had been his intention from the start. He had known for years that this day would come. It was the fulfillment of the request he had received so many years earlier from Jor-El. And, though he was excited to begin this journey, he also had a slight tinge of concern; concern for what had happened in the past and for what could potentially happen again in the future.

 

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The Landspeeder slid across the miles of desert-like terrain, en route to the outermost parts of Tatooine. Upon arrival, Clark brought the vehicle to a stop. As it hovered in place, Ben and Clark stepped out to look down upon their destination.

"Mos Eisley Space Port," Obi-Wan spoke, "You won't ever find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious."

Climbing back on board, the small group began their trek into the city limits. Creatures of all shapes and sizes bustled about the dilapidated land. None were too quick to move out of the way of the gliding Landspeeder. On more than one occasion, Clark had to veer the controls to avoid striking a passerby. People in Mos Eisley had very little concern for anyone other than themselves.

Clark became nervous, as he saw Stormtroopers up ahead stopping and checking vehicles before allowing them to pass by. Anger began to fill his body, as he thought of how it was men from their ranks that had killed his aunt and uncle; who had destroyed his home. He knew he had to put these feelings aside. And he did, amidst concern for the fact that he knew the troopers were searching for the very two droids that were aboard his vehicle. It appeared to him that this journey was about to end before it even began.

"How long have you had these droids?" came the question Clark had been dreading.

Having thought ahead, he responded, "About three or four seasons."

"They're for sale, if you'd like them," Obi-Wan added.

"Let me see your identification," the Stormtrooper commanded.

Clark sank in his seat, knowing he did not have any way out of this situation. He was debating whether he should gun the engine and make a run for it, when Obi-Wan raised his right hand and began to speak.

"You don't need to see his identification," he spoke softly.

"We don't need to see his identification," the trooper parroted in a hypnotic-type state.

"These aren't the droids you're looking for," Obi-Wan once again spoke.

"These aren't the droids we're looking for," the repeat came once more.

Obi-Wan finished his suggestive statements with, "You can go about your business... Move along."

As he said each statement, the Stormtroopers repeated.

An astonished Clark rode through the checkpoint, not understanding what had just happened.

"How did you do that?" Clark questioned.

"You will learn in time," was Ben's simple response.

 

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Mos Eisley may have been a place for the lowest of the low; the dredge of the galaxy, but even here one place was worse than all the rest. The Mos Eisley Cantina sat in the center of the space port. It was a place where these people could gather together, whether to conduct rather questionable business arrangements or to engage in other poor life choices.

Obi-Wan led the way in. Clark would normally have been drawn to the live music flowing forth from the stage set at the Cantina's far end. The eclectic fusion of jazz, funk and rock was just the type of rhythm that he had always enjoyed. And this band was excellent. But the scene surrounding him drew his attention in such a way that his mind nearly blocked the sound out.

Beings of every size and shape inhabited the room; large and small; hairy, scaled or covered in a variety of skin tones. Some had two eyes like himself; others one or a countless number. There were only two things each of the inhabitants had in common. Each was pouring some kind of alcoholic beverage down their throat and all were equipped with some sort of weapon. Blasters could clearly be seen strapped to the waists of many. Others had variations of swords or some other device that he had never seen or had any way to describe. This clearly was a place of danger.

Obi-Wan directed Clark, R2 and C-3PO to the bar and silently ordered, "Stay here. I will make inquiries to try and find us a suiting means of travel."

Clark reluctantly sat on a stool at the bar, wishing Obi-Wan had not left him alone. He was fully uncomfortable in these surroundings. He intended to order a drink, just to fit in and draw less attention to himself. Spotting the bartender, it comforted Clark somewhat that he shared human features, though he was much larger and heavier.

The comfort ended as the bartender bellowed, "We don't serve their kind here."

Clark momentarily stared blankly, not understanding what he meant.

"The droids," he continued. "They'll have to wait outside."

Clark's first thought was that it was odd that this man seemed to serve every alien in the galaxy, but refused serve droids, but he thought it best to comply.

"You better do what he says. We don't want any trouble," he spoke toward his mechanical companions.

"I heartily agree," came 3PO's quick reply. He was glad to have an excuse to leave the premises.

With the droids gone, Clark ordered a drink and lowered his head, hoping to draw as little attention to himself as possible. Glancing slightly to his left, he spotted Obi-Wan speaking to a creature covered in brown hair. He had never seen a being like this, but from descriptions he had heard over the years, Clark believed this must be a Wookie. Wookies were known for having a short fuse that did not mesh well with their tremendous strength.

'Why would Ben be talking to a Wookie?' he thought.

"He does not like you," the pig man spat out.

"I'm sorry," Clark replied impishly, trying to turn back to his drink.

"I don't like you either. You better watch yourself. We are wanted men. I have a death sentence on twelve systems."

"I'll be careful," Clark retorted, knowing full well this man couldn't harm him.

"You'll be dead," the man shouted, pulling Clark's seat out from under him.

The bar seemed to quiet, as all attention shifted toward the confrontation at hand. The two men began to throw punches at Clark. His first thought was to retaliate. With his super strength, he could have laid waste to the entire bar with relative ease. Yet, he knew it was best to not draw such attention to himself. After all, he barely felt the blows in any way whatsoever. It wasn't until the blue creature removed a weapon that glowed in a green light that he began to feel weak. Fear began to overtake Clark, as he did not like this feeling and did not know what would happen if this weapon was used on him. His fears instantly vanished as the glowing blue of Obi-Wan's light saber seemed to come out of nowhere, severing the arm of the pig man from his body. Even as the creature screamed out in pain, all that had been watching so intently seconds earlier, silently turned back to their affairs. This man was clearly a Jedi and all knew better than to mess with his sort. Clark's powers returned, as the Kryptonite laced weapon disappeared.

As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Obi-Wan calmly gestured toward the Wookie and stated, "Chewbacca here is first mate on a ship that might suit us."

That said, the three walked out of the Cantina's main room in silence. Not one person even glanced in their direction as they exited.

 

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Chewbacca led the trio into a smaller room on the Cantina's east side. The first room had a social feel; a gathering place for fun and debauchery. This one was quieter. The music could still be heard, but it was distant and muffled. Where most swilled alcohol in the main room, this room seemed more focused on games of chance and the conducting of business.

Chewbacca stopped at a small table with two occupied chairs. The first was occupied by a large scale covered creature. He was round in size and egg-like. The other man was human. He wore his auburn hair tossed to the sides. His white jacket and black vest were worn, but fit him well. The man turned a pair of aurodium plated gold dice in his palmed hand. Finally rolling them, the large creature jumped up in a huff, obviously upset at the result.

"Calm yourself," announced Han Solo, "You lost fair and square. Now pay up."

The creature threw a small stack of bills on the table before storming out, knocking over a table on the way. Obi-Wan slid into the now vacated seat. Clark and Chewbacca stood in place behind their respective friends.

"Han Solo, Captain of the Millennium Falcon," Han introduced, "Chewy here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

"Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship."

"Fast ship?" Han spat back indignantly. "You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?"

Unmoved by Han's display, Obi-Wan calmly responded, "Should I have?"

"It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs," Han bragged. Waiting for an excited response, but getting none, he continued, "I've outrun Imperial Starships. Not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I've outrun the big Corellian ships. You think she's fast enough for you, Old Man?"

Clark did not like this man and was not too keen on the idea of hooking up with him. He wanted to speak up and put an end to this deal. Especially when he heard Han speak with such disrespect toward Obi-Wan, as to call him an old man. Still, he somehow already trusted his mentor, so he remained silent.

"What's the cargo?" Han continued.

"Only passengers," Obi-Wan informed, "Myself, the boy, a couple of droids. And no questions asked."

With that statement, Han knew danger was involved. He was not above breaking a law or two, but still he felt he should know what he was getting into.

"What is this, some kind of local trouble?"

"Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements," Obi-Wan responded in an obvious cryptic manner.

"Well, that's the real trick, isn't it?"

Han cocked his head, thinking this through. He'd had a recent run in with an Imperial ship that left him with a bounty on his head. Was he really willing to take such a chance as to potentially draw trouble from them again? Then again, he did need the money. His very life depended on it.

"Then it's going to cost you something extra," he stated dryly, hoping to see a favorable response. The old man seemed unfazed, so he spit out a large number, "Ten thousand. All in advance."

Hearing this, Clark could no longer stay silent. "Ten thousand? We could buy our own ship for that."

"But who's going to fly it, Kid? You?"

Clark was sick of this man and his arrogant attitude. "You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself." Turning to Obi-Wan, he implored, "We don't have to sit here and listen to this."

Still calm, Obi-Wan cut in, "We can pay you two thousand now. Plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan."

"Seventeen?" Han was now fully on board. "OK. You guys got yourselves a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay ninety four."

"Ninety Four," Obi-Wan repeated.

Staring off into the distance, Han noticed a small group of Stormtroopers speaking with the creature that had lost it's arm at the hands of Obi-Wan. "It looks like someone is beginning to take an interest in your handy work."

With that, the two quietly slipped out the rear exit of the Cantina. Han, thoroughly influxed with the joy of this newfound fortune, got up from the table. This could save his life. His excitement was quickly contained, as a green scaled creature stuck a blaster gun hard into his chest, forcing him back down.

"Going somewhere, Solo?" the creature questioned.

"Yes, Greedo. As a matter of fact, I was just going to see your boss. You can tell Jabba I've got his money."

Greedo spoke a language that was a hybrid of Rodian and Huttese. Few, throughout the galaxy, spoke either language, but It was fairly common to inhabitants of Tatooine. Han had picked up enough of the language to engage in this conversation.

"Then give it to me and I will deliver it," Greedo commanded.

"I don't have it with me. Tell Jabba..."

Greedo cut him off, demanding the money. Han could see where this was going. Greedo was a bounty hunter, plain and simple; a ruthless cold blooded killer that had no intentions of leaving without the money, Han's dead body or both. Seeing no other choice, Han slowly reached under the table. Fingering the blaster strapped to his belt, he loosened it. As Greedo continued to yammer his threats, Han bided his time. As the right moment arrived, he simply pulled the trigger, never bothering to lift the blaster from under the table. As Greedo's lifeless body fell to the ground, Han simply rose up and walked out, as if nothing had happened.

 

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As Clark, Obi-Wan and the droids made their way to the hangar, Princess Leia found herself in a very different situation. Without even knowing it, she was now aboard the very space station that she had confiscated the plans for.

Darth Vader had grown tired of questioning the princess, having done so on multiple occasions. Realizing that she would never willingly give up any information, he thought of simply killing her. However, he was aware that if he did so, the disc with the Death Star plans would remain in the hands of the Rebellion. It was clear that more forceful methods of persuasion had become necessary.

"We could do a mind probe. However, it would take some time before we could extract any information from her," Vader spoke to Grand Moff Tarkin.

An officer stepped into his presence, announcing, "The final checkout is completed. All systems are operational. What course shall we set?"

With this simple question, an idea entered the mind of Tarkin. "Perhaps she would respond to an alternative form of persuasion."

"What do you mean?" Vader asked.

"I think it is time we displayed the full power of this space station," he stated. "Set courses for Alderaan," he informed the officer.

Vader now fully understood the Grand Moff's intentions.

 

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Clark did not like Mos Eisley. The strange creatures and general feel of treachery and distrust were bothersome to his untrained Jedi senses. As far as he was concerned, they could not get out of this Space Port quick enough. He could use his super speed and be gone before most of the creatures blinked their eyes. And he may have done just that, if not for the reassurance that came from Obi-Wan's calm nature.

They continued their trek, passing one hangar after another. Each was identical, other than the bold black numbers painted as identification. The foursome remained silent. Amidst all the other foreign beings, they did not notice the black hooded figure that was tracking their every move.

As they passed Hangar 92, Obi-Wan announced, "If his ship is as fast as his boasting, we ought to do well."

It was at this same time that the hooded creature stopped following and pulled out a transmitter. Pushing buttons, he began to speak in a series of squeaks that would usher in a load of trouble that Clark and the others had no idea was coming.

Finally arriving at Hangar 94, the small group stopped dead in their tracks.

Frozen in place, it was not hard to determine that the ship docked here did not look, in any way, like they had imagined. Han had bragged of a fast ship of legendary speed. What they saw here was awkward and clunky looking. It had to be at least thirty years old and looked to have been welded together in parts, just to keep it together. Han was busy wiping dust from it's side.

'This was the legendary Millennium Falcon that Han boasted of?' thought Clark. His voice, however, worked quicker than his mind, as he spat out, "What a piece of junk."

Han stopped wiping, obviously annoyed by the comment. He moved toward Clark. The Millennium Falcon was his pride and joy and he did not appreciate some nothing farm boy that had spent his entire life on Tatooine putting it down.

"She'll make point five past light speed. She might not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, Kid. I've made a lot of special modifications myself. But, we're a little rushed, so if you'll just get on board, we'll get out of here."

Han stepped aside in a mock curtsy, directing Clark and the others toward The Falcon's boarding ramp, as if they were royalty. The four walked past his mocking gesture and began to board. Han and Clark exchanged harsh glances in the process.

Once on board, they were greeted by the familiar face of Chewbacca, sitting at the control panel. A quick grunt in Shyriwook, the language of the Wookies, welcomed them to the ship.

All seemed smooth enough, and would have been, if not for the call made by their hooded stalker. Before Han was able to enter the ship, the strange being ushered a large herd of Stormtroopers into the hangar. Not waiting for any type of pleasantries to be exchanged, they simply raised blasters and started firing in his direction. Knowing that the droids were on board the ship, the troopers had no time to lose. If that ship were to take off, they would have lost the two robotic beings, and along with them, the stolen Death Star plans.

Blasters flared in both directions, as Han fired back. Hearing the shots, Clark quickly rushed back to the door of the ship. A blaster shot hit him dead in the chest, bouncing off, as if nothing had happened. Knowing they had to get out of there, Clark added what aid he could to Han. Focusing in, he used his heat vision to heat the hands of a trooper that was in close range of blasting their pilot. The gun dropped rapidly from his burning fingers, as he screamed out in pain. This gave Han just enough time to get onto the ship. Pushing a button, the entrance sealed closed.

"Punch it, Chewy!" he screamed.

Flipping buttons in the rapid manner of a seasoned professional that knew his ship well, Chewbacca caused the Millennium Falcon to lift off the hangar dock in a manner that was much faster than it's appearance would have made one think was possible. Amidst continued rapid shots, the large ship jetted off, leaving their assailants behind in a haze of blue light.

 

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The general sense of uneasiness that had filled every person aboard the Millennium Falcon lessened as the great ship cruised through the vast openness of outer space. Having left the Stormtroopers behind, Han beamed toward his paying passengers; a cocky look that let them know he was more than capable to handling their journey.

Unfortunately, the general sense of newfound peace left as quickly as it had come. Without warning, a laser blast shot past the Falcon, passing in clear view of their windshield. Looking through monitors, Han could not believe what he was seeing.

"It looks like an Imperial Cruiser," he announced to Chewbacca. "Our passengers must be hotter than I thought. Jumping up from his seat, he continued, "Try to hold them off. Angle our deflector shields as I prepare to make the calculations for the jump to light speed."

Chewbacca growled a response that was clearly intended to be affirmative.

This was an intense situation and Han knew it. Yet, for as much trouble as he knew they were in, he was not about to show it. He did his best to play the part of the cool, confident pilot he was known to be; a trick that was toughened by the fact that two more Cruisers came into view.

Clark was getting annoyed. For all his gifts and abilities, at heart he was still a tempestuous teen; young, cocky and unable to control his emotions.  
"Why don't you outrun them?" he spat. "I thought you said this thing was fast."

Han was tiring of Clark's attitude. He was not used to having anyone question his skills and methods and was not about to let this teenager be the first to get away with doing so.

"Watch your mouth, Kid, or you'll find yourself floating home," he warned.

Trying to calm himself, he added, "We'll be fine once we make the jump to hyperspeed. Besides, I know a few maneuvers. We'll lose them."  
Back in his seat, Han rapidly punched buttons and entered coordinates. He knew the Millennium Falcon was more than capable of handling this situation, but the Imperial Cruisers were gaining. His instinct was to rush the jump to hyperspeed, but doing so too soon could have them all lining the inside of coffins. It took all his patience to withhold the process, especially as his passengers started questioning him.

"How long before you can make the jump to lightspeed?" Obi-Wan's question was a mix of peace from within and nervousness from what he could see.

"A few moments," Han responded, trying his best to sound calm, "I'm getting the components from the Navi-Computer."

Han was really starting to dislike this kid. His mind flashed back to Clark's assertion that he could pilot the Falcon, as well as he could. 'With his impatience, this kid would have had us all killed way before now,' he thought.

Turning to look him straight in the eye, Han informed Clark, "Travel through hyperspace ain't like dusting crops, Boy. Without precise calculations, we'd fly right through a star or into a black hole, and that would end our trip real quick, wouldn't it?"

At that precise moment, Han got the coordinates he had been waiting for. Swatting Clark's hand away, he commanded, "Everyone strap yourselves in. I'm going to make the jump to light speed."

With the punch of two more buttons and the pull of a throttle, the ship lunged forward at a pace that left the Imperial Cruisers hundreds of miles behind.

 

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Princess Leia and Clark Skywalker's paths were soon about to cross. Neither had any way of knowing this or how deeply this meeting would impact both of their lives. Yet, both had a knowing; a sense that something life changing was about to happen. For Leia, specifically, this was true both in a good way and one that was horribly bad.

The princess was marched down a long corridor of The Death Star. Darth Vader and a slew of Stormtroopers guarded her from the rear. The trek ended in the front cabin of the space station. The sight that caught her eye brought bile to her throat.

"Charming to the last," he rolled his eyes. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to sign the orders to terminate your life."

"I'm surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility upon yourself." She was trying to stay cool, in spite of his threats.

"Princess Leia, before your execution," Tarkin began to march around the cabin, raising his arms in mock adoration, "I would like you to take part in a celebration that will bring this battle station to full operation. No star system will be able to stand against the Emperor now."

"The more you tighten your grip, the more star systems will slip through your fingers," she responded coolly.<

'She is annoying,' he thought. 'It will be my pleasure to watch her breathe her last.'

"Not after we display the power of this station," he spoke aloud. "in a way, you have helped us choose the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to disclose the location of the rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."

The air of confident calmness the princess had been portraying, quickly drained as her home planet came into full view of the ship's central screen. Surely, this man was not mad enough to actually destroy an entire planet. And this station, could it actually provide such power? And if he were to destroy a planet, why her home planet? Certainly, not Alderaan. Alderaan is.....

"Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons," she pleaded.

"You prefer another target; a military target? Then name the system." Tarkin cut in. "I grow tired of asking this." He moved well within the parameters of socially acceptable personal space and looked down at the princess nose to nose. "This is the last time I'll ask," he calmly concluded, "Where is the rebel base?"

Princess Leia's mind was racing on overdrive. Should she give up the rebels? Could she risk her planet being destroyed? The answer finally came.  
"Dantooine. They're on Dantooine," she finally spat forth.

"Now, see Lord Vader, she can be quite cooperative when properly motivated."

The Sith Lord had his doubts.

"Continue with the operation. Fire when ready," Tarkin spoke calmly.

Leia could not believe what she was hearing. "But you promised..."

"You're far too trusting," the Grand Moff snarled at her. "Dantooine is far too remote to make an impressive showing. But, fear not, we will deal with your rebel friends soon enough."

Leia could barely stand to look at what was about to happen. Yet, she stood her ground, trying not to show any fear in the face of this human scum. As she watched on, a small group of silver toned beams shot down in a triangular pattern before joining as one. The combined force fired in unison toward the direction of Alderaan. The planet was blown to pieces in a matter of seconds. Leia's heart felt equal devastation.

 

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Obi-Wan Kenobi was very even keeled; never prone to open displays of emotion. That is why the sudden change in his demeanor was dramatic enough for Clark to immediately discard his newly started Jedi training.

Adjusting his glasses, Clark pushed the button to recall his lightsaber at the same moment Obi-Wan fell back into a chair. The elder Jedi looked as if the weight of the world had just hit him.

"What's wrong?" Clark questioned.

Obi-Wan sat back, looking greatly troubled, unable to speak for a long moment. He had never felt anything like this before.

"I felt a great disturbance in the force," he finally spoke, "As if thousands of voices suddenly cried out in terror and at once were silenced. I fear something horrible has happened."

In truth, the old man could not even begin to comprehend the magnitude of what he had felt.

"You better get on with your exercises," he added abruptly.

This statement came partly as an attempt to get his mind off of the great disturbance he had felt and also out of a sudden knowing that there was now a great urgency for new Jedi to be trained.

As Clark reignited his lightsaber, Han burst into the room.

"There's no more need to worry about those Imperial ships. I told you I'd lose them."

Neither Jedi master nor student paid him any mind. Their attention had turned back to Clark's training. A small orb floated in mid-air, firing shots at Clark, as he attempted to block them with his electrical sword.

"Don't everyone thank me at once," Han said, perturbed at their seeming lack of gratitude.

Clark was struggling, getting zapped time and time again by the orb's shots. The reality is that he was focusing too hard on the task at hand. Ben could clearly see this and knew the trouble it presented in his training.

"Remember. A Jedi can feel the force flowing through him," the teacher spoke.

"You mean it controls your actions?"

"Partly," Obi-Wan corrected. "But it also obeys your commands."

Another blast to Clark's leg brought a loud laugh out of Solo. He had been watching and listening to this session. To him, this was a bunch of nonsense. He found the whole idea of the force amusing and was not the type to hide his feelings.

"Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, Kid," he taunted.

Again retracting his weapon, Clark challenged, "You don't believe in the force, do you?"

"Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything that would make me believe there's some all powerful force controlling everything. There's no mystical energy that controls my destiny. It's all a bunch of simple tricks and nonsense."

Obi-Wan smirked. He was so in tune with the force that there was no way he could deny it's existence. As a response to what he viewed as a challenge, he stood and reached for a helmet. All the while he spoke to Clark.

"I suggest you try again, Clark. Only, this time, let go of your conscious self and act on instinct."

Completing this statement, Obi-Wan placed the helmet over Clark's hat, blinding him.

"But with the blast shied down, I can't even see. How am I supposed to fight?" the Kryptonian asked.

"Your eyes can deceive you," came the sage words. "Don't trust them."

With that advice, Clark drew his lightsaber for a third time and the orb jolted back into action. This time, however, the situation went much different. Wherever each blast was aimed, Clark instinctively moved his saber to block it. It was effortless, though that made no sense to his natural mind.

Excited by his accomplish, Clark pulled off his helmet.

"See. You can do it," his master said with a smile.

"I call it luck," Han mocked. "Good with a remote orb is one thing. Good against the living? That's something else."

At that moment, a series of beeps went off throughout the Millennium Falcon. Han jumped up, making his way back to the cockpit.

"Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan," he informed the others.  
Ignoring Han's exit, Clark declared, "You know, I did feel something."

"That's good," Obi-Wan encouraged. "Once your Jedi training starts to merge with your natural Kryptonian abilities, you will find yourself welcomed into a much larger world."

 

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Just as things were looking up for Clark and his cohorts aboard the Falcon, Vader and his crew were facing negative results aboard The Death Star. A low ranking official walked slowly into the presence of Darth and Tarkin. He was nervous, knowing the report he had to bring was not going to be well received. His entire body wanted to tremble. It took so much effort to keep himself from doing so, that he wound up standing stiff as a board.

"Our scout ships have reached Dantooine," he finally stated. "They found the remains of a Rebel base, but they estimate that it has been deserted for quite some time." He paused, expecting the wrath of Darth Vader to come down upon him. When the Sith Lord remained silent, he concluded, "They are now conducting and extensive search of the surrounding systems."

It was Tarkin, rather than Vader, who's anger rose from the news. In truth, Vader was not surprised at all by the report. He had always known that Princess Leia would never betray the Rebellion. Her allegiance toward them and hatred toward the Empire ran far too deep.

Tarkin slammed his hands down on the table set before him.

"She lied to us," he fumed.

Vader vocalized his thoughts, "I told you she would never consciously betray the Rebellion."

"Terminate her immediately," Tarkin demanded to no one in particular.

Whether or not a specific person had been addressed, all that got word of the command would be eager and willing to carry it out.

 

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The Millennium Falcon completed the hyperspace jump to Alderaan with ease. However, once the ship settled to a normal pace, they found the transition anything but easy. Instead of entering a clear passage to their desired planet, they found themselves in the middle of what appeared to be some kind of meteor shower or asteroid field.

"This wasn't on any of the charts," Han nearly panicked.

Chewbacca was having a harder time controlling his fears, as he bellowed forth a long series of communicative grunts.

The two focused on the panels and gears, doing their best to steer the Falcon through a massive onslaught of planetary debris. Left. Right. Center.

The large ship moved with what looked like expertise, through what was in reality, a very difficult path.

Feeling the shifting motions of their transport, Clark and Obi-Wan rushed into the cockpit.

"What's going on?" Clark asked.

"We've come out of hyperspace into some kind of meteor shower. The stranger part is, according to our charts, there's no Alderaan," Han informed.

"What do you mean? Where is it?" the young man queried.

The pilot and co-pilot continued to maneuver the ship, while trying to find some kind of answer to give their passengers. No logical response seemed to exist.

"Alderaan was destroyed by the Empire," Obi-Wan informed the others in a calm, but troubled tone.

The Jedi master now understood what the disturbance in the force had been. He had no idea how, but he now knew that this evil, Imperialistic governing body had found a way to destroy an entire planet. Just as the realization came to him, Han piped up with his thoughts to the contrary.

"Impossible. The entire Starfleet couldn't destroy an entire planet. It would take a thousand ships with more fire power than that."

As they discussed the situation at hand, the debris from the obliterated planet rushed past them, leaving the Millennium Falcon in a clear field for travel. However, they now had no destination to reach. The entire group was puzzled as to what exactly was going on and each had several theories running through their minds. Only Obi-Wan had a knowing assurance that his thoughts were correct.

The ship's panel suddenly sent off a small series of beeps.

"There's another ship coming in," Han informed the others. "Maybe they know what happened."

"It's an Imperial fighter," Obi-Wan calmly stated, without having seen the ship.

Sure enough, a small ship in the shape of a bow tie appeared in the front screen of the Falcon, moving past them at a rapid pace.

"It followed us," Clark stated in an uncertain manner.

"No. It's a short range fighter," Obi-Wan declared.

"Oh ya? Then where did it come from?" Han rolled his eyes at the ridiculous statement. "There aren't any bases around here."

"It sure is leaving in a big hurry," Clark said, watching the ship cruise by. "If they identify us, we're in big trouble."

"Not if I can help it. Chewy, jam the transmission," Captain Solo ordered.

"It's too far gone," Obi-Wan dismissed. "It's best to let it go."

"Not for long," Han stated, slamming down the Millennium Falcon's throttle.  
Han had no idea how such a small ship could have gotten so far out into deep space, but he wasn't about to let it get back to a base and report their whereabouts. The Falcon used it's considerable speed to tail the Imperial ship, with every intent of blasting it into oblivion.

"It looks like he's heading to that small moon," Clark spoke, seeing a planet come into view.

Eyes protruding from his face, Obi-Wan declared in a concerned voice, "That's no moon. It's a space station."

"It's too big to be a space station," Han quickly dismissed.

Oh, but it was a space station; a space station more massive than even someone with a mind as open to the force as Obi-Wan's had ever imagined. Kenobi had always known the intentions of the Empire. Having once been a contemporary of Darth Vader himself, Obi-Wan knew the man was pure evil, but this...this was far beyond even the comprehension of the Jedi master. He now knew how it was that the Empire had been able to destroy Alderaan.  
The mood of all a on board the Millennium Falcon suddenly became very serious, as the "moon" came closer into view. All knew instinctively that something bad was about to happen.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Clark spoke softly.

"Turn the ship around," Obi-Wan ordered with equal softness in his voice.  
Han was not one to take commands on his own ship, but in this case, he agreed without hesitation.

"Full reverse. Chewy, lock in the auxiliary power."

Chewbacca cried out in frustration.

"Chewy. Lock in the auxiliary power," Han repeated more forcefully, hoping to convey his intense concern for the situation.

"We're stuck in a tractor beam," Han informed. "It's pulling us in."

"Do something," Clark implored.

"There's nothing I can do. I'm shutting down power. They can pull us in, but they're not going to get me without a fight."

The small group quieted at this point, focusing their attention on the ever increasing size of the space station that was pulling them in. All had different thoughts as to what would happen once they were finally brought on board, but each were equally troubling.

 

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As the Millennium Falcon continued to be pulled forward, a gateway slowly began to open along one side of the Death Star. This was obviously the location where the ship would be brought aboard. Han knew that they would be greeted by unwelcome hosts once the ship arrived. He wasn't about to let that happen. Grabbing a small tool, Han crouched down and removed a panel from the floor of the ship.

"Follow me," he announced.

The passengers did as they were told. They found themselves in a compartment not nearly large enough for four men, let alone two droids.

"Just keep quiet and we'll be safe in here," Han ordered.

The small group huddled silently, as Han returned to the ship's helm. He loaded a quick report into the ship's log and released two escape pods before returning to the others. Meanwhile, Stormtroopers were eagerly awaiting their arrival in the Death Star's loading bay.

An announcement was transmitted to Grand Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader, "We've captured a freighter entering the Alderaan system. It's markings match those of a ship that blasted it's way out of Mos Eisley."

"They must be trying to return the stolen plans to the princess. She may be of some use to us, as of yet" Vader declared.

The report was brought to Vader and Tarkin, "There's no one on board, Sir. According to the log, the crew abandoned ship right after take off. It must be a decoy. Several of the escape pods have been released."

"Were there any droids aboard," Vader questioned.

When he was told there were not, he ordered a scanning crew to once again search the ship. Vader had no doubt that there were passengers on board; one in particular. He could feel the presence of his old teacher and former friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

As the Imperials boarded the ship a second time, Han saw the opportunity for escape. He removed a second panel. This one led the small group off the ship.

"It's a good thing you had these compartments," Clark spoke, truly thankful.

"I use them for smuggling," Han informed. "I never thought I'd be smuggling myself in them. This is ridiculous. I have no idea how we're going to get out of here. There's no way we can get past their tractor beam."

"Leave that to me," Obi-Wan spoke, in his normal calm manner.

"I just knew you were going to say that," Han shook his head.

"This is the first thing we need to do." Obi-Wan gave the instructions for a plan that seemed way too solid for the short time he had to put it together.

"Hey, can you give us a hand on here?" Han shouted to two Stormtroopers standing guard outside the Falcon.

Assuming it was their contemporaries summoning them, the two soldiers rushed on board, having no idea they were about to meet their end at the hand of blaster shots. With this accomplished, Clark and Han removed their victim's armor and placed it on themselves. This would allow them to move freely throughout the space station undetected. The first part of Kenobi's plan had gone off without a hitch.

 

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An overseeing officer kept watch of the Millennium Falcon as the troopers continued their search. Walking down the ship's ramp, Clark looked up toward the officer and tapped the helmet of his stolen uniform.

"Take over, we have a bad transmitter. I'll see what I can do," the officer spoke to an underling, having understood Clark's gesture.

The officer motioned his way toward the door. Pushing a button on the wall, it slid upward to create an opening. There was barely a moment's time to express his shock, as he saw the crew of the Millennium Falcon awaiting him. With a loud cry and thorough blow, Chewbacca sent the man flying across the office. Han (also covered in Stormtrooper gear) followed up with a blaster shot to the officer's inferior. Obi-Wan, C-3PO and R2-D2 watched on from behind. This done, Clark came running up to join his cohorts.

"With all the noise he's making," Clark gestured toward Chewbacca, "and you blasting everyone in sight, it's a wonder the whole space station doesn't know we're here."

"Bring them on. I prefer a straight fight," Han smirked.

"We found the computer outlet," C-3PO interrupted the burgeoning fight.

"Plug in. We should be able to interpret the entire Imperial network," Obi-Wan took charge.

A compartment opened on the front, right side of R2-D2 and a thin, cylindrical mechanism shot forth from within. The droid inserted the cylinder into the outlet and began to twist both the tool and his head from side to side. After a moment, he let out a series of beeps.

"He says he's found the precise location of the tractor beam that is holding the ship here. He will make it show up on the screen," C-3PO interpreted.

As quickly as was spoken, digital graphs and grids appeared on the Imperial screens, showing the inner workings of The Death Star. For a few moments, blue and green, three dimensional blueprints moved quickly, showing one location after another. Eventually, the layout stopped on one specific spot and it began to flash.

"A power loss at this terminal will allow the ship to leave," C-3PO explained.

"I don't think you boys can help. I must go alone," Kenobi stated cryptically.  
In fact, he was not referring to the simple manner of disarming a tractor. Obi-Wan was referring to the meeting he knew was about to take place. It was time for the former trainer and student to meet once again.

Clark tried to stop him, stating his interest to go along, but Ben would not hear of it. He knew he must face this situation alone.

"Be patient, Clark. Stay here and watch the droids. They must be delivered safely or other star systems will suffer the same fate as Alderaan. Your destiny lies on a different path than mine." Before leaving, he placed his hand on Clark's shoulder and added, "The force will be with you. Always."

With that last sentiment expressed to his young protege, Obi-Wan marched off to meet his destiny.

 

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Once Obi-Wan had departed, Clark pushed the button on the wall to reseal the door. Once the opening slid back into place, Clark suddenly felt weakened. It was not the same kind of weakness he felt in the presence of the Sand People. The Kryptonite in their weapons, as Obi-Wan had explained, had the ability to make Clark sick. This was not the same feeling.

This was not a feeling of sickness, but rather of a loss of strength. Regardless, Clark dismissed it, as Chewbacca bellowed out a light roar.

"You said it, Chewy." It had become clear that Han was one of the few humans that could understand Chewbacca's language. "Where did you dig up that old fossil?" Han concluded, turning back toward Clark.

"Ben is a great man," Clark stated, meeting Han's gaze.

"Ya, great at getting us into trouble."

"Well, I didn't hear you coming up with any great ideas," Clark spat back. He and Han were now standing face to face.

"Anything was better than just hanging around waiting for them to pick us up."

The argument was just beginning to become confrontational when the two were interrupted by a series of mechanical sounds emanating from R2-D2. He obviously wanted to get their attention. Clark turned toward the small droid.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm not quite sure, Sir," C-3PO responded, still unable to drop the title of respect. "He says I've found her and keeps repeating, 'She's here'."

"Who?" Clark questioned.

"Princess Leia," C-3PO responded plainly.

"The princess?" Clark exclaimed, "She's here?"

"Princess?" Han questioned. He suddenly regretted his decision to take on this mission with no questions asked.

"Where? Where is she?" Clark inquired.

"Princess?" Han once again questioned. "What's going on?" This mention of royalty troubled the smuggler.

As all this was being discussed, R2 continued to search the ship's navigational system. He twisted mechanisms to learn more information, letting out a series of blips.

"Level five," C-3PO interpreted. "Detention block AA-23." Listening to another series of sounds from R2, he added, "I'm afraid she's scheduled to be terminated."

"No," Clark hushed, truly feeling a deep lament for this woman he had never met. "We've got to do something," he quickly added.

"What are you talking about?" Han returned to a position of confrontation.

"The droids belong to her," Clark explained. "She's the one in the message. We've got to help her."

Han had no idea what message Clark was speaking of, having not been present when he and Obi-Wan had viewed it.

"Now, wait. Don't get any funny ideas. The old man wants us to wait right here."

In truth, Han could not have cared less about what Obi-Wan did or did not want him to do. All he knew is that he did not want to get involved in this situation. He had already taken on more trouble than he had bargained for and he was not about to welcome more.

"He didn't know she was here," Clark cried. "If we could just find a way into that detention block." Clark knew that if he found the princess, he could use his powers to rescue her.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," Han stated plainly.

"They're going to execute her. A few minutes ago, you said you didn't want to sit here and be captured. Now you just wan to stay?" Clark confronted.

"Marching into the detention area is not what I had in mind."

"But they're going to kill her," Clark pleaded, his sense of right driving him forward.

"Better her than me." Han did not have the same moral compass.

Clark turned, ready to accept the fact that he would have to take on this mission by himself, when a thought entered his mind. He turned back toward Han. Leaning over him from behind, he whispered two words.  
"She's rich."

Chewbacca grunted out the thought that Clark intended.

"Rich?" Han pondered.

"Rich. Powerful," Clark added. "If you were to rescue her, the reward would be way more than you could imagine."

"I don't know. I can imagine quite a bit," Han thought aloud.

Money was Solo's one weak spot. The payment he was receiving to transport Clark and crew across the galaxy was going to pay off his debt to Jabba the Hutt, but this could set him up for life.

"You'll get whatever price you want," Clark picked up Han's thought.

"I'd better."

"You will."

Han could not believe he was considering this. Here he was stuck on an Imperial space station that was capable of destroying an entire planet, his beloved Millennium Falcon was locked on board and his only help was two droids, an old man and a kid. Yet, here he was actually ready to take on more trouble.

"You better be right about this," he warned Clark. Pausing, he added,

"What's your plan?"

Clark began to look around the cabin. A plan quickly formed in his mind. Spotting a pair of handcuffs, he grabbed them and went to put them on Chewbacca's wrists. The Wookie began to resist, but Han calmed him, picking up on Clark's thoughts.

"Excuse me, Sir, but what should R2 and I do if we're discovered here?"

"Close the door," Clark dismissed.

"And hope they don't have blasters," Han added.

"That's not very reassuring," bemoaned the nervous droid.

 

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With helmets back in place, Clark and Han strolled the halls of The Death Star without garnering any unwanted attention. Clark, however, was nervous. And it showed. As Han moved calmly and well poised as any real Stormtrooper, Clark fidgeted from side to side. He often looked over his shoulder or took a bit too long to stare at a passing officer. He kept using his super sight to look through walls and around corners to see what lie ahead of or beyond them. He held onto the arm of Chewbacca, as an attempt to calm his nerves.

This was unusual for Clark. He was not the nervous type. Even with his untrained Jedi abilities, Clark's powers had always made him feel quite capable of handling himself. But something about this mission seemed to diminish his confidence. In reality, it was several things. There was the princess; a woman he never met , but felt a sense of duty to save. There was the fact that he was on board an Imperial space station that had the capability to destroy an entire planet (with no current way to get off). Most of all, there was the fact that his strength continually seemed to leave and return since he got on this giant ball of destruction. He couldn't help, but wonder what would happen if his powers failed him in the midst of a confrontation. The trio reached an elevator and stepped aboard.

As uneasy as Clark was, Obi-Wan was equally calm with his current situation. He ducked through halls, managing to dodge from one spot to another undetected by all. This would be impossible for any ordinary person. An elderly man in a brown robe does not exactly blend well into most settings. Obi-Wan, however, with his sensitivity to the force, was finding it quite easy to do so. Peaking around one corner, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of the black armor that now clad his former friend and protege. At that very moment, Darth Vader paused, once again sensing the presence of the Jedi Master.

At this exact time, the elevator carrying Clark and company arrived at the Detention Center.

"This is never going to work," Han lamented.

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"I did say so before," he countered.

No sooner had the elevator door opened than the guards took notice of this unusual looking crew. Looking them over, the senior guard gestured toward Chewbacca.

"Where are you taking this thing?"

Clark tried to sound calm, "Prisoner transfer from cell block 1138."  
His nerves showed through.

"I wasn't notified." The guard sensed something was wrong. "I'll have to clear it."

He waved over two lower ranked guards, wanting to be prepared if he needed back up, as he somehow thought he might. As they moved toward him, the senior guard began to call about this unauthorized transfer.

Knowing this had to be stopped, Chewy quickly shook his hands free of the cuffs, knocking one guard off his feet. The others began an exchange of gun fire that ended with all, but Clark, Han and Chewbacca lying dead on the floor.

"We need to find out what cell this princess of yours is in," Han looked through the computer programs as he spoke. "Here it is. 2187. You go and get her. I'll hold them here."

Clark took off in direction of the cell, as Han tried to smooth over the man still listening on the other end of the com-link.

"Slight weapons malfunction, but everything is perfectly fine now." It was the normally calm captain that now found himself nervously fumbling for words. "Uh, everything's fine. We're, uh, all fine. Everything's perfectly fine now, thank you. How are you?" He sounded like a fool and he knew it.

"We're sending a squad up."

"Uh, negative, negative. We have a reactor leak here now. A very large leak; very dangerous."

"Who is this? What's your operating number?"

The man's tone of voice made it obvious that he was not buying Han's story.

Knowing they were about to be invaded anyway, Han turned his blaster toward the control panel. The conversation was over, but he knew trouble was now on it's way and he voiced this to Clark shouting down the hall. The young Kryptonian barely paid any mind to what was said, as he opened the cell door and, for the first time, set his eyes on the beautiful form of Princess Leia Organa.

 

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Leia looked up at the Stormtrooper standing in the doorway. She felt a tinge of fear, assuming he was there to escort her to her scheduled death. She was not about to allow him to see any of that fear though. She would not give him the satisfaction.

With her usual heir of indignation, she spat out, "Aren't you a little short to be a Stormtrooper?"

"Ha?" Clark questioned. "Oh, the uniform..."

Clark took off his helmet as he continued speaking. Leia was surprised by this gesture. She had never seen a trooper remove his gear before. Their uniform was generally in place as a safety precuation; to aid in battle.

However, they were also known to provide a certain air of protection to the wearer's identity. Most Stormtroopers were delivered to the Empire at birth and trained to be in their service. Many never even knew their real names, but were rather assigned a serial code number that they were identified by.

Others that were enlisted at an older age or volunteered were separated from their past identities as much as possible. By not seeing themselves or each other's faces, individuality was greatly reduced. This is why it was so strange to see Clark remove his lid.

"I'm Clark Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you," he continued.

"You're who?" The princess was truly confused at this point.

"I'm Clark Skywalker. I brought your R2 unit. I'm here with Ben Kenobi."

"Ben Kenobi?" With that news, Princess Leia excitedly jumped from the small cot she had been curled up on. "Where is he?"

Darth Vader turned to Grand Moff Tarkin, "He is here," were the only words he spoke.

Somehow, without prompting, Tarkin knew exactly who Vader was speaking of. Maybe some of the Sith lord's Jedi senses were rubbing off on the Imperial leader.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi? What makes you think so?" he questioned calmly.

"A tremor in the force. The last time I felt it was in the presence of my old master."

Vader was remaining tremendously calm, considering the amount of hatred for Obi-Wan he had welled up inside of him. It was Obi-Wan who had made him the monster he is today. It was Obi-Wan that had nearly stripped him of his life. And the one thing Vader wanted more than anything else was to return the favor and snuff the life out of his former friend.

"Surely he must be dead by now," Tarkin scoffed.

"Don't underestimate the power of the force." Vader managed to make this statement sound both calm and menacing at the same time.  
Underestimating the force was exactly what Grand Moff Tarkin had a tendency to do. Living in the presence of Vader for as long as he had showed him there was some truth to these old mystical ways. Yet, he still did not stand fully convinced of them. The thought had always remained in his mind that if this force was really as all-powerful as Vader claimed, the Jedi would still be around. The Grand Moff chose to voice this opinion.

"The Jedi are extinct. Their fire is gone out of the universe. You, my friend, are all that is left of their religion." Tarkin took his attention away from the Sith Lord to answer a call on the com-link, "Yes."

"We have an emergency alert in detention block AA23," the voice announced.

With that simple sentence, Tarkin suddenly knew Vader was right about Obi-Wan being on board.

"The princess?" he asked nervously. "Put all sections on alert."

"Obi-Wan is here. The force is with him," Vader stated conclusively.

The Sith Lord felt a mixture of hatred and joy. On the one hand, he felt nothing, but vile toward his former master. On the other, he could sense that his time of revenge was finally drawing near. In reality, Darth Vader was glad to know Obi-Wan was on board. He had waited a long time for this.

"If you're right, he must not be allowed to escape."

Tarkin began to think of how it would be near impossible to stop a Jedi; especially one as powerful as Obi-Wan Kenobi. His thoughts were interrupted by Vader's words.

"Escape is not his plan. I must face him alone."

With that said, Vader turned and marched out of the room, leaving Tarkin behind. There was a more rapid pace to Vader's steps than normal, as he set out to meet and destroy the last of the Jedi.

 

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Obi-Wan was picking up the same vibrations in the force as Darth Vader, directing him to the same location; the spot where their final duel would take place.

As this was happening, the small group of rebels had found themselves in a serious situation. The troopers that were trying to thwart Princess Leia's escape had begun to close in on them. Han, Clark and Chewbacca had done their best to ward off the attack, but the sheer number of soldiers was too much for them to handle. Clark wanted to use his powers, but with Han and Chewy in close proximity, he could not risk the exposure. They continued blasting in their direction with the occasional shot taking out one of the enemy. All the while, they slowly retreated down a long corridor. This is where the trouble truly arose. The foursome found themselves trapped at a dead end.

Clark took it upon himself to contact C-3PO. Pulling out his com-link, he yelled, "3PO, are there any other ways out of the cell bay? We've been cut off."

It was hard to hear the droid's response over the fire of blasters. He tuned in his super hearing to hear C-3PO repeat, "I said all systems have been alerted to your present cell. The main entrance seems to be the only way in or out. All other information on your level is restricted."

Clark conveyed the message, "There is no other way out."

"Some rescue," griped Leia. "You'd think you had a plan for getting out."

The blaster fire was getting heavier and more intense. It was clear that they could no longer hold off the onslaught. Realizing this, the princess chose to take matters into her own hands. Grabbing the blaster from Clark's hand, she began to shoot at a grate in the wall, creating a wide opening.

"What the hell are you doing?" Han yelled.

"Somebody has to save our skin," came the snark reply. "Into the garbage chute," she continued, diving into the opening she had blasted.

The others reluctantly followed. Looking back one last time, Clark saw a group of Troopers heading toward their escape. He quickly blew a large gust of breath that sent the entire group toppling backward, head over heels. He let out a large smile before diving down the chute.

Landing in a large pile of waste, Clark immediately realized that his on again-off again powers had once again shut down. And it was at this moment that he realized what had been causing the glitch in his system.

The room was dark and Clark now came to realize that some areas aboard the space station were sealed so tight that the twin suns of Tatooine were not able to penetrate through. No sun equaled no powers.

"At least we're in a safe place for now," Clark thought.

Sitting in a large pile of wet garbage was not the first choice for anyone to be in, but it was far better than fending off blaster fire that could snuff out your life at any given second. Han, however, thought a little differently than the others. He had been in enough tough situations over the years to know it was only a matter of time before the Stormtroopers would figure out where they had gone. Then they would have them as sitting prey.

He pulled out his blaster and announced, "Let's get out of here."

With that, he fired a shot at the door. Instantly, the blaster shot bounced off the door and began to ricochet around the room, bouncing off one wall and then another like a deadly game of pinball.

"What are you doing? It's magnetically sealed," Clark warned.

"Put that thing away before you get us all killed," added the princess. She had become quite annoyed at Han's antics.

Han was equally annoyed and spit back, "Absolutely, Your Worship! You know, I had everything under control until you led us down here," he lied.

"You know, it's not going to take long for them to find out where we are."

"It could be worse," she stammered.

The princess could not have spoken those words at a more appropriate time. It was at that very moment that a loud bellow came from below the garbage heap. The waters began to stir, as whatever it was began to move beneath them.

"There's something alive in here," Clark panicked. With his powers shut down, he quickly forgot about the small amount of Jedi training he had received and worry took over his mind.

"It's just your imagination, Kid," Han spoke with little confidence, hoping he was right, but fearing he was not.

"It just moved past my leg," Clark snapped, jumping back.

As he did so, Clark spotted a long, scaled creature gliding just below the surface of the foul liquid they were standing in. It looked similar to a large snake, with a rougher hide. Chewbacca did not like what he saw and began banging on the door. Hopefully, his brute strength could bust through, but, if not, at this moment he felt he'd rather face capture and take his chances fighting Stormtroopers than to tangle with this beast.

As the four looked around in nervous silence, the creature suddenly wrapped itself around Clark's legs, pulling him beneath the surface. As the others, screamed, searching below the refuse for their captured companion, Clark was struggling for breath beneath the water. He struggled with all his might, but with no sunlight, he did not have near enough strength to overtake his foe. It was at the moment of near death, when he felt he would not be able to breathe any longer that he suddenly felt his strength return. The beast had dragged Clark to a place that had a clear window-like panel.

As the twin suns hit his skin, he felt breath reenter his lungs and he began to tug at the beast, intending to free himself. However, just as he did, the creature released him, swimming off to an unforeseen place at a rapid pace.

Clark contemplated following, but looking upward, he saw the garbage heap and knew he must return to aid his friends. He swam back to the surface and emerged, faking a gasp for breath, so as to make the others think he had been near to drowning. He was beginning to feel a closeness to these people, but he still was not comfortable enough to give up his secret identity.

Relieved to see him return, Leia questioned, "What happened?"

"I don't know. He suddenly just let go of me and disappeared."

It was mere seconds before the gang began to get the answer as to why the beast had left with such haste. The walls of their confinement began to creak in a loud, awkward manner.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Han spoke, as he felt the room begin to shake.

And, just like that, they realized this was not just a garbage disposal, but a trash compactor.

"Try to brace it with something!" Princess Leia yelled.

They each came up with long poles of metal and other substances that may give them a fighting chance. Unfortunately, with his return to this location, Clark's powers had once again been cut off.

Screaming for help, the group did all they could think of. "Perhaps we were better staying behind to face the Stormtroopers," Leia thought, regretting that she had brought them into this situation.

The walls were closing in, tighter and tighter, sure to flatten each of them in mere seconds, when Clark remembered something. He pulled out is com-link.

"3-PO! 3-PO!" he screamed.

Troopers had found the hiding place of the two droids and knowing they were about to enter, the two had positioned themselves in a distant corner. From there, C-3PO could hear Clark's call for help, but could not respond.

At that very moment, the soldiers opened the door, entering their room.  
An idea quickly formed. C-3PO announced, "Quick. They captured us. They're heading for the prison level. If you hurry, you might catch them."

The soldiers bought it and marched off in the direction of the prison level, leaving one behind to guard the bay. As subtly as possible, C-3PO retrieved the link. Thinking quickly, he told the guard, "All this excitement appears to have overrun the circuits in this R2 unit. I'd like to take him down to maintenance. The guard allowed this.

Once they were out of ear shot, C-3PO finally responded. Before he could say more about his situation, Clark screamed at the droid, "Shut down all the trash compactors in the detention level!"

R2 quickly plugged into the ship's system. Within seconds, he was able to shut the machine down, saving his friends. Clark sure was glad Uncle Owen had purchased these two droids. Seeing the disposal shut down, the four began to shout, excited that another near death situation had been thwarted.

Mistaking the cries of glee for screams of pain, C-3PO began to lament, thinking they had been crushed. Upon further revelation, he realized the group was set free. R2-D2 was able to open the compactor's door, returning the small rebel group to freedom. These droids sure had proven themselves to be of great value.

 

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Obi-Wan Kenobi crept stealthily down the corridors of the Death Star. He could feel the force leading him each step of the way. Someone in his position should have been gravely nervous. Not only was he outnumbered several hundred to one if caught, but there was also the fact that he was about to come face to face with the most treacherous man he had ever known. No doubt Darth Vader had grown colder and more heartless over the two decades since their last meeting. Obi-Wan could feel the darkness of his former friend permeating the vibrations in the force.

Continuing to follow the spiritual leading, the elder Jedi Master turned down a walkway that would mean freedom for his friends from this god awful contraption of destructive evil. It was clear that the desire was for no one to enter this area. The sides of the walkway were non existent. There were no walls; just one strip of metal, barely larger than a balance beam, that led to the ship's main computer. One wrong step and a man would surely fall to his death. Obi-Wan walked calmly, but carefully.

The main computer was fixed into a long column, stationed at the center of this corridor. As Obi-Wan arrived at it, a swarm of Stormtroopers entered the area. Moving his hands ever so slightly, Obi-Wan used his knowledge of the force to divert their attention. Looking directly past him, the large herd simply turned and left him to his business, as if he were not even there.

Once alone, the task at hand became quite simple. Kenobi punched a few buttons to locate the tracking system that was keeping the Millennium Falcon trapped aboard. Once this was found, it was just a matter of pulling a few switches. And, just like that, the Rebels were not only free from the garbage disposal, but free to leave this space station as soon as they were back aboard their ship.

  
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The small group of Han, Chewbacca and Clark had managed to get off the Millennium Falcon safely, they had dodged the fire of Stormtrooper blasters at many turns and they had gotten out of the trash computer. All this was done, while managing to rescue Princess Leia and add her to their ranks.

Yet, as well as they had been doing, they would never truly be out of danger's way until they got off this space station.

They barely had time to catch their breath from the near deadly experience amidst the ship's trash before they found their lives in danger once again. Rounding the first corner they approached, the foursome came face to face with another small herd of Stormtroopers. Han knew it was up to him to free them this time. Faking insanity, he ran full force toward the soldiers, blasting away as he ran. He did manage to hit one, as the stunned group turned and ran in retreat.

  
Clark and Leia turned in the opposite direction, as Chewbacca followed Han from a distance, intending to add aid to his long time friend, if needed. And need it he did. The Stormtroopers had not been in retreat at all. They had been luring Han into a trap. As he followed them around a corner, Han found himself standing in the presence of more than two dozen of Vader's henchman. Quickly turning, Han sped swiftly back in the direction from which he originally came, nearly knocking his Wookie cohort over in the process.

In a separate corridor, Clark and Leia were having equal problems with their own set of soldiers closing in on them. Clark's powers were cutting in and out as he ran. In some areas, sunlight must have been managing to creep its way into the ship. As he felt them return, Clark would be pick up his pace, not enough to give his secret away to the princess, but enough to move them further from their pursuers. He kept her in front, moving her along with him. The problem was that every time Clark began to build some speed, his powers would then cut back out. The pair's luck finally seemed to run out, as they reached a dead end, with a drop so deep, you could not view the bottom from their perch.

Stopping short, it only took seconds for the Stormtroopers to be upon them. With laser blasts coming in their direction, Clark hit a button on the wall to seal a door in place. To his dismay however, once it was down, Clark realized there was no lock. Without giving much thought, he pulled his blaster from his belt and shot the controls. This would slow down the trooper's efforts to open the door, but he realized it was, ultimately, a poor choice, as Leia pointed out inadvertently.

"There must be a controller to lower a bridge across," she stated.

"I think I just blasted it," Clark responded in lament.

The two did not have time to dwell on this error, as a few of the Stormtroopers emerged in a separate doorway, across the chasm. Firing in rapid succession, the two were lucky enough to land shots that downed the foes. Clark thought of just giving up his secret and flying the two across, and he would have done so, if not for the fact that his powers seemed to be cutting out once again. He did manage to come up with another idea though. Being a farm boy, Clark was accustomed to having various tools attached to his belt or kept somewhere else on his person. Reaching down, he unfastened a grappling hook. The princess knew his thoughts and was not crazy about the idea. Yet, she knew if may be their only chance. Leaning in, she gave Clark a quick peck on the cheek.

"That's for luck," she uttered.

Under different circumstance, Clark would have been thrilled by the display of affection. In their current situation, the gesture was ignored. Clark's super powers may have been ineffective, but he fully felt the aid of the force, as he launched the hook in an outward motion. It managed to latch onto an overhang and, in one swift motion, the two swung across the cavern to safety. One thing was for sure, however. They would not be safe for long. They needed to get off The Death Star. Force or no force, they would not be able to survive much longer in such a hostile environment.

  
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Han and Chewy continued their retreat, managing to slip through a sliding door, sealing it behind them. Now it was just a matter of making their way back to the Millennium Falcon. With any luck, they'd be able to board the ship and escape this nightmare.

In the same area, but out of their sight stood Darth Vader. The dark clad Sith Lord stood, still and silent, lightsaber wielded and ready. The glow of the weapon set a red hue on Vader's armor that made his normally intimidating presence seem all the more menacing. He could feel a smile creep across his charred and covered face, as Obi-Wan stepped into his presence.

Vader's mind was fully set on revenge, something that filled his heart with glee. Obi-Wan felt only sadness as he looked upon his former apprentice. Oh, what a great man Vader had once been. He could have gone on to be the most legendary of all Jedi Knights, had he not been seduced by the dark side. It hurt Ben deeply to see what his former friend had become. He stood in silence as all these emotions washed over him.

Vader began his advance, walking slowly toward the Jedi master. Knowing a battle was inevitable, Obi-Wan sparked his own weapon. A green light shot forth, clashing with the glow of Vader's red. The two Kryptonite laced weapons would have leveled most Kryptonians by their mere presence. These two had trained their bodies to evolve beyond such paralyzing weaknesses.

"I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan," Vader spoke. "We meet again at last. The circle is now complete. When I last met you, I was but a learner. I am now the master." Vader emphasized the word the to insinuate his dominance over Obi-Wan.

"Only a master of evil, Darth," Obi-Wan spoke softly; sadly.

With those simple words exchanged, the battle began. When the two last met, twenty years prior, their fight was full of youth and energy. This battle, however, was more calm and subdued. The two were more poised in their style, a true sign of maturity and mastery of their art. Each took few steps, as they lashed out with their glowing swords. An occasional spin; a simple turn or side step. Mostly it was just strike and block. Vader lashed out mostly, as Ben stopped the attempts to strike him. He could have attempted to turn the tables, but he was not motivated to end the life of the Sith Lord. That was not his intent.

Sparks flew as sabers clashed. For less than a minute, the two engaged in a war, more of wits than strength. Obi-Wan maneuvered a momentary step back.

He uttered, "Strike me down and I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

The battle started back up. More intensity could be seen and felt in their thrusts.

"You should not have come back," Darth Vader spat out. It may not have been Obi-Wan's intent to kill his foe, but it certainly was Vader's.

The two continued with the skilled set of any well trained swordsman. It was at this time that the now rejoined Rebel group arrived at the Millennium Falcon. Upset to see it guarded by yet another set of Stormtroopers, Han muttered, "Just when I thought we were out of this mess."

"Is the ship all right?" Clark questioned.

"It looks ok, if we can just get to it. I just hope the old man got the tractor beam out of commission."

To the group's surprise, the crew of troopers suddenly abandoned their post, running off to some sight in the distance. They could not believe their luck and made a quick motion toward the ship. R2-D2 and C-3PO led the way. The dash of Clark was suddenly cut short, however, as he glanced in the direction the troopers had run.

"Ben?"

Clark was stunned to see his mentor in the midst of a battle wtih Darth Vader. This, however, was the moment Obi-Wan had been waiting for. A smile crept across the face of the elder Jedi, as he raised his saber upward, purposely allowing the Sith Lord to strike him down.

"NO!!!" Clark bellowed, as he watched his master's robe fall listlessly to the ground.

His shout, however, set off a larger problem. Hearing it, the Stormtroopers' attention was turned back in their direction. They immediately began firing shots at the crew. Clark wanted nothing more than to rush to the side of his fallen friend. He hesitated slightly, fully aware that if Vader could strike Ben down, he had the potential to do the same to him. He also recalled the pain he had always felt around the Sand People's weapons. He could recognize the material in the lightsabers as the same Kryptonite Ben had told him of. Blaster shots bounced off his body, unable to harm him. He watched as Darth Vader kicked lightly at the robe of Obi-Wan. It was at this moment, that Clark realized the man's body was not there. He and Vader, simultaneously, wondered what had become of the fallen Jedi.

Still unsure of what to do, Clark's decision was made for him, as he heard the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi in his mind. It told him, "Run, Clark, Run." He obeyed, joining his friends in the cockpit of the heavily assaulted smuggling vessel.

  
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Now back on board the Millennium Falcon, Han flipped knobs and threw switches at a rapid pace. This was their one chance at escape and he knew it.

"I sure hope the old man got that tractor beam disabled," he thought aloud, as the Falcon rose to flight.

He was able to turn the ship in the opposite direction, now facing east, as would be needed to depart this station. That seemed a good sign, Han thought.

Outside, the onslaught of blaster fire continued to make slight impacts on the ship. The Falcon may escape, but it certainty was going to look a bit worse for wear after this altercation.

Throwing the switch for acceleration, Han was thrilled as the Millennium Falcon moved forth directly out of The Death Star's hangar. This was a great start, but there was no way the Empire was going to just let them casually stroll out of their presence and Han knew it. He kept focused at the task at hand. They must escape.

In exact opposition to Han's hyper intensity, Clark sat still and solemn. His head was down, as Princess Leia approached. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a light massage.

Clark barely looked up as he muttered, "I just can't believe he's gone."

"There wasn't anything you could have done," the princess spoke softly, meaning to console her new friend.

Rather than consoling, however, this troubled Clark more. Surely, there was something he could have done. His powers were back to working at full capacity. He could have sped over to the area and blocked the deadly blow. He could have used his heat vision to cause Vader to drop his saber. He could have used his strength to...

Even as he had these thoughts, he knew she was right. Had he tried to save Ben, he likely would have wound up lying dead right alongside him. As great as his powers are, Clark knew he was no match for somebody trained in the force as thoroughly as Vader had been. This didn't make him feel any better. Clark so desired to help people. It was in his very nature to be a hero. It was at this moment that he knew he was going to do whatever it would take to become a Jedi Master.

Han ran into the room, eager to draw up the help he needed. Seeing Clark's forlorn demeanor, he slowed. But he still needed assistance. In an uncharacteristically caring voice, he spoke, "Come on, Buddy. We're not out of this yet."

Clark's senses came back quickly, as he jumped into action. Climbing down into a side pit, he took a seat at the ship's main blaster. Throwing on a set of headphones to maintain communication, he heard Han's voice tell him, "Ok, stay sharp."

Monitors fired, allowing Clark to see outlines of the small Tie Fighters the Empire was sending out in droves to stop their retreat.

Working as a valiant tandem, Han and Chewbacca maneuvered the large ship, as Clark blasted one Imperial ship after another. A less seasoned pilot or weaker ship would not have stood a chance against such an onslaught.

This pair, however, was far from any other common team. Within a few moment's time, the crew was celebrating, as they saw the last of the Tie Fighters come apart in a massive explosion of fire and debris.

Han and Clark may have gotten off to a rocky start, but the two men had now come together in a way that would bound them in friendship like few other people could ever claim.

Han flipped the switch to hyperspeed and the Millennium Falcon shot clear out of view of the Death Star.

 

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Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin watched on, as the Millennium Falcon departed their vision in a flash of blue light. For the first time in decades, Vader felt a bit of joy enter his darkened heart. He had just destroyed his former master and now he was about to learn the location of the Rebel base.

"You're sure the homing beacon is secure aboard their ship?" Tarkin asked.

He was not as confident in the Sith Lord's plan. "You're taking an awful risk, Vader. This had better work."

Darth Vader fully believed it would.

  
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"Not a bad bit of rescuing, ha? You know, sometimes I even amaze myself."  
Han was never one to withhold self praise. He was not exactly prideful, but he was confident and was more than willing to boast of a job well done.

"That doesn't sound so hard," Princess Leia spat back, unimpressed. She challenged him, stating, "They let us go. It's the only explanation for the ease of our escape."

"Easy? You call that easy?"

"They're tracking us," Leia announced, confident in her statement.

"Not this ship, Sister."

Han had never met another woman that annoyed him so much. Her arrogance; the way she thought she knew everything. In truth, the most annoying part was that she reminded him of himself. And, in an odd way, as much as he hated to admit it, this made him feel a strange attraction toward her.

Shaking her head, she continued, "At least the information in R2 is still intact."

"What's so important, anyway?" Han questioned. "What's he carrying?"

"The technical readouts to that battle station," she confided, with more than a hint of concern in her voice.

The information hit Han hard. He immediately began to question what he had gotten himself into? Was the money really worth all this? Surely, with that type of information aboard his ship, the Empire would do everything in their power to hunt him down. This entire mission seemed to be leading in the direction of certain death.

"I only hope that when the data is analyzed a weakness can be found," the Princess thought aloud. "It's not over yet," she added.

"It is for me, Sister," Han stated with great annoyance in his voice. "Look, I ain't in this for your Revolution. I'm not in it for you, Princess. I'm in it for the money, plain and simple. I expect to be paid and I expect to be paid well. I'm in it for the money."

Princess Leia was every bit as annoyed with Han as he was with her. And also just as attracted. She got up and began to storm out of the cockpit. If she stayed longer, she would be tempted to either kill or kiss him. And she knew neither were a good idea. Clark was entering, as she left.

Looking at the aspiring, young Jedi, she spat out, "Your friend is quite the mercenary. I wonder if he cares about anything." Turning toward Han, she added, "Or anybody."

Taking her seat, Clark steered the conversation in a new direction, "So, what do you think of her?"

"I'm trying not to, Kid."

In truth, she was all he could think about. In the midst of this mission that could end with him on the losing side of an Imperial death blow, it drove him mad that this arrogant princess was dominating his thoughts. How did he get himself into this mess?

"Still," Han let his guard down for a minute, hoping to get the ear of a friend, "She does have a lot of spirit. What do you think? Do you think a princess and a guy like me..."

"NO!" Clark spat out firmly, putting an end to Han's thoughts of friendliness.

Clark was unclear about his feelings for Princess Leia. He found her very attractive. And he definitely had feelings for her. Yet, the feelings did not seem to come from a place of romantic emotion, as much as he wanted them to. No, his feelings were more protective. He did not like the thought of Han and Leia together; not because he wanted her for himself, but because he had seen the kind of man Han was. Although he had proven to be of great help on this mission, at his core, Clark knew Han was still a criminal and a smuggler. The man showed little to no concern for anyone, but himself. Something in Clark did not want Leia to get involved with a man like that.

Han merely laughed off Clark's sharp response. He turned his attention toward the planet they were approaching. Yavin IV was tree covered and fertile; well known for producing ripe fruits and vegetables that were shipped and eaten throughout the entire galaxy.

As the Millennium Falcon came to land, Han had no idea that Princess Leia's claims were being proven true. An Imperial spy stood below, tracking their arrival.

  
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The Millennium Falcon had barely touched down before it's inhabitants were rushed into a small room to meet with General Jan Dodonna. The general was an aged military man that would have been retired years earlier if mere age were used to determine leadership. Gladly, this hadn't occurred in the ranks of the Rebellion. Dodonna's white hair and beard were the only indicators of his advanced age. In mind and body, he was as spry and strong as any young recruit. Having originally served with the Navy of the Galactic Republic in the Clone Wars, General Dodonna had since gone on to command one of the largest Rebel cells under the supervision of Senator Bail Organa. He was noticably excited to see the Senator's daughter.

"Yes, General. We were very lucky that he was aboard the Tantive IV when we were boarded. Had he not been there, these plans would have surely been lost."

"Then we owe a great debt of gratitude to this little R2 unit," General Dodonna spoke, patting the droid on the top of his would-be head.

Princess Leia, R2-D2, C-3P0 and the general departed the room, leaving the other's behind.

"What do you suppose they'll find?" Clark asked.

"A whole lot of nothing is my guess. The Empire wouldn't go through all the time and expense of building a station that size without making sure it was indestructible," Han chided.

  
"Nothing's indestructible," Clark began.

"That's where you're wrong, Kid," Han interrupted. "Mark my words, there is no way they are going to find a way to blow that thing up."

Clark shook his head, annoyed at Han's skepticism.

As this conversation was going on, General Dodonna was pouring over the readouts that showed the structure of the Death Star. He pushed buttons on R2-D2 and each time he did, the holographic images beaming forth from the little droid shifted to a different section of the enormous space station's blueprints.

"This does seem quite the impenetrable structure," C-3P0 whined.

At that moment, General Dodonna cried out, "I've got it."

Pushing a button, the hologram disappeared, causing a series of beeps to spring forth from R2-D2.

Turning to Leia, General Dodonna informed, "We need to round up the X-wing pilots. I have found a potential weak spot. That weapon of mass destruction is about to be taken down."

  
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The small group of about twenty X-wing fighter pilots were now seated in a conference room, as General Dodonna began his address.

"The battle station is heavily shielded and carries a fire power greater than half the Star Fleet." Han, Leia and Chewbacca watched on from the rear. Clark sat alongside Biggs, the two having recently reunited. The General continued. "It's defenses are designed around a direct large scale assault. A small, one man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense."

"Well, the Empire doesn't consider a small, one man fighter to be any threat. Or they'd have a tighter defense. An analysis of the plans delivered by Princess Leia has demonstrated a weakness in the battle station." At this point, General Dodonna turned toward the hologram and started pointing directly to it. "The approach will not be easy. You're required to maneuver straight down this stretch and skim the surface to this point. The target area is only two meters wide. It's a small, thermal exhaust port right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the reactor system. A precise hit will start a chain reaction that should destroy the station. Only a precise hit will set off a chain reaction. The shaft is shielded, so you'll have to use proton torpedoes."

"That's impossible!" Biggs shouted. "Even for a computer!"

"That's not impossible," Clark whispered, leaning toward his friend. "I used to blast swamp rats in my T-16 back home. They're not much bigger than two meters." Clark chose to leave out the information that he would use his laser heat vision to do so.

"Man your ships." General Dodonna concluded, "And may the force be with you."

With that said, the group of pilots grabbed their helmets and began making their way toward their respective ships. The war against the Empire was about to receive a kick into high gear.

  
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Red rings appeared on the Death Star's main monitor screen, outlining the base of the Rebel Alliance. Darth Vader was still in revelry over the elimination of Obi-Wan Kenobi. His years of patience had paid off, as his former mentor's life had now been ended. Watching this new scene unfold before his eyes increased he uncommon feeling of joy the Sith Lord had been feeling. Sure, it was over destruction; that which had already taken place and that which was about to come, but nonetheless, in the darkness of his tainted heart it truly was joy.

Grand Moff Tarkin, standing at his side was more stoic, as was his nature. He also was anticipating the impending doom of the Rebel Base, but excitement was not an emotion the elder statesman showed openly.

Words came forth from the screen, "Orbiting the planet at maximum velocity. The moon with the Rebel Base will be in range in thirty minutes."

The moon, known as Yavin IV was much smaller than Alderaan, so the two Imperial leaders had little concern that their weapon could bring about it's destruction.

"This will be a day long remembered," Vader finally spoke. "It has seen the end of Kenobi and it will soon see the end of the Rebellion."

Something in Darth Vader's simple statement concerned the Grand Moff. On the surface, it seemed perfectly true. Every sign pointed to the soon destruction of the Rebels. Yet, as inevitable as it all appeared, something about Vader's confidence troubled the general.

  
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As the other X-Wing pilots were heading to their ships, Biggs was pleading the case of Clark to General Dodonna.

"General, next to myself, Clark Skywalker was the best pilot on Tatooine. If truth be told, he may have been better."

Clark sat silently, alongside his friend, trying to keep his pride in check after so great a compliment.

"That may be true," the General responded, "But you have received extensive training since that point in time. Young Mr. Skywalker has not. There is a vast difference between racing your friends on the outskirts of some planet's dunes and going up against the Empire. You know that. Sending Skywalker into this battle is not only dangerous, it could, in fact, jeopardize our entire mission."

Clark's momentary lapse into pride quickly faded. In his mind, he knew he could handle this battle. Heck, with the combination of his Kryptonian powers and Jedi training (minimal as it was), Clark knew he may well be the best chance the Rebellion had in destroying The Death Star. He was about to speak up when Princess Leia entered the room.

"General Dodonna, if I may," the princess started.

"Proceed," the General added dismissively.

"General Dodonna, in the short time I have known Clark Skywalker, I have seen him display great skill and cunning tactics. He not only rescued me from certain death aboard the very space station we are attempting to destroy, but also orchestrated the rescue of the entire crew of the Millennium Falcon. In addition, I should add that he has been trained in the ways of the force by none other than Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi himself. I do not find it a mere coincidence that this young man wound up in the very presence of the one person we were trying to recruit to help us on this mission. Now that Master Kenobi is no longer with us, I personally feel Clark Skywalker would not only be an asset on this mission. He may be our greatest hope."

The general listened to her words with great deliberation. He had the utmost respect for Princess Leia; not only for her position, but for her commitment to the Rebellion. He knew her to be a woman with wisdom far beyond her years. Piecing that with the newfound information that Clark was not only associated with, but trained by Obi-Wan Kenobi, caused him to give more serious thought to the situation at hand. Still, it was quite dangerous to send an untrained, unproven pilot into battle against the Empire. He thought for a long, hard moment, as the others sat in silence.They had pleaded their case. The decision was now in the hands of the general.

Looking toward Biggs, General Dodonna nodded in the direction of Clark, "Get this man outfitted for battle."

  
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Now clad in the orange and white uniform of an X-Wing fighter pilot, Clark Skywalker made his way toward the bay that held his assigned ship. As he walked, Clark felt an uneasiness. It was not a nervousness. In fact, it was more excitement; as if he was heading out on a journey of some significance.

He felt as though his mind should be racing; thoughts of speeding ships, blasting bullets and the ultimate destruction of The Death Star, but that's not what he thought of at all. In reality, his mind was filled with peace, a calmness that stood in direct defiance of the mission he was about to embark upon.

  
Spotting Han ahead in the distance, Clark grabbed his transmitter helmet and moved toward the galactic smuggler. As he got closer, it became quite apparent that Han was loading his promised reward onto the Millennium Falcon. No doubt a take off was planned to occur shortly after. Clark picked up his pace, feeling a bit indignant toward his would-be friend.

"So, you got your reward and you're just leaving them? Is that it?"  
Clark was disgusted that Han was doing so. In spite of the man's gruff exterior and boastful ways, Clark really had begun to believe there was more to Han; a basic goodness that he tried to not let shine through.

"That's right," Han replied. "I got some old debts I have to pay off with this. Even if I didn't, you don't think I'd be fool enough to stick around here, do ya?" He paused, then added, "Why don't you come with us? You're pretty good in a fight. We could use you?"

Clark could not believe what he was hearing. Not being willing to stay and fight was one thing, but did Han actually think for one moment that Clark would abandon the Rebellion to cruise around space on a smuggling ship?

"Come on, take a look around." Clark decided to attempt a plea toward Han's decent side. "You know what's about to happen; what they're up against. They could use a good pilot like you. You're turning your back on them."

Han wasn't buying it. "What good is a reward if you're not around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle ship isn't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide."

Han had learned long ago that he had to look out for himself first and foremost. He liked these people. Clark and Leia and even the old man. But he wasn't about to turn his back on everything he had learned from his life's experiences. In Han's mind, there was no way he was going to risk his life on what he considered a fool's mission. Sure, he hated the Empire, but as long as they left him alone, he didn't have to concern himself with them one way or another.

"All right," Clark shook his head. "Well, take care of yourself...I guess that's what you're best at," he added with clear spite.

The Yavin IV space port was full of activity, preparing for their attack on The Death Star. For the Rebellion, this was not only important, it could be their last hope at ridding the galaxy of the Empire. With a station that could blow up entire planets in their possession, nobody would be able to stop their reign of tyranny. Blowing up The Death Star was the Rebel Alliance's last and only chance at freedom.

Clark walked along, head down, looking forlorn, with C-3P0 in tow. Princess Leia was greeting various pilot's, wishing them luck, as General Dodonna looked over ships for any last minute needed repairs or changes. The three crossed paths before long.

"What's wrong?" asked the princess, noticing Clark's obviously downtrodden state.

"I don't know," Clark shook his head, pausing, "I really thought he'd change his mind."

"He has to follow his own path. No one can choose it for him."

In reality, Princess Leia was just as upset about Han's decision to leave as Clark was. Possibly more. To spite her better judgment and their vast difference in class, demeanor and beliefs, she could not deny that she had developed feelings for Han. Deep in her heart, she also had hoped he would stay to join the battle.

Clark continued his lament, "I just wish Ben were here."

Leaning in, Leia placed a soft kiss on Clark's cheek. She hoped the gesture would help settle her friend's troubled mind. As much as he appreciated the sentiment, it did not. The two immediately parted ways with no further words, heading in opposite directions to continue their preparations.  
Continuing on, Clark reconnected with Biggs.

"Are you ready for this?" Clark asked.

"It will be like old times. Together, there's no way they can stop us. We'll share stories when we get back."

Patting him on the shoulder, Biggs also parted Clark's company. On his own, he now realized he had to clear his mind. This would be the most dangerous mission Clark had ever embarked upon. And, to spite all his powers, he was very aware of the fact that they did not guarantee victory.

Alone with his thoughts, Clark took several deep breaths; a Jedi calming method Obi-Wan had begun to teach him.

By the time he arrived at his ship, Clark was feeling much better. R2-D2 was being loaded into a rear compartment by a technician.

"This R2 unit of yours is pretty beat up. Would you like a new one?" the technician asked.

A huge smile came across Clark's face, as he thought of all that he and R2-D2 had already been through in the short time they'd been in each other's company.

"Not on your life. I wouldn't trade him for anything."

Throwing on his transmitter helmet, Clark climbed into the cockpit. This was the time. Within moments, he would be flying amidst a squadron of other X-Wings, preparing to take down the most destructive man made structure in the galaxy.

"Please be careful," C-3PO instructed R2-D2 with deep concern.

R2's responding beeps showed gratitude for his concern.

"You wouldn't want my life to get boring, would you?" C-3P0 concluded.

The two droids had been through so much over the years, that regardless of occasional spats, they had become so close that one practically did not operate without the other.

Engines began to blare all over the space port. Cockpits began to lower, sealing pilots within. People of various positions and duties rushed about, waving and shouting instructions. This may have seemed like chaos to those watching on, but in reality it was a well orchestrated unit.

Within moments, one after another, X-Wing fighters began to lift from their bays. As Clark awaited his instructions to launch, he once again heard the familiar voice of Obi-Wan sound off around him. Was this in his mind? It seemed not. Obi-Wan's voice seemed to echo directly through the ether.  
"Clark, the force will be with you," it stated.

With that, Clark filled with confidence. He quickly thrust his ship forward, leaving the Yavin IV space port behind as he raced toward a key piece of his ultimate destiny.

  
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Princess Leia and General Dodonna sat in a control room, observing the X-Wing fighters, as they hovered, preparing for attack.

A metallic voice filled the room, "Death Star approaching. Estimated firing time fifteen minutes,"

Nervous anticipation immediately came over both of the higher ranked Rebel officials. Could this really be done? Did their small group really have a chance at taking on and defeating the massive Empire? There was only one way to find out.

More words came forth, breaking their contemplation.

"All wings report in."

Every word spoken through the transmitter helmets could be overheard in the control room.

"Red ten standing by."

"Red six standing by."

"Red seven standing by."

"Red eleven standing by."

"Red two standing by."

"Red five standing by."

This last voice brought a slight smile to the face of the princess. It was the voice of Clark Skywalker. Leia was somewhat concerned for Clark. Especially considering his lack of experience and training. Yet, at the same time, she felt a strange comfort in knowing that he was part of this mission.

"Lock in for attack position."

This command came, as the Death Star neared. It seemed to grow larger as it's proximity drew closer. The one man fighter planes looked insignificant in comparison to it's massive size.

"We're passing through magnetic fields," another voice announced. "Put your deflectors on and hold tight."

"This is it, boys."

"Red leader to gold leader. I'm going to cut across the access and try to draw their fire."

The X-Wings sprang forth in a tight formation, ready for battle. The Death Star suddenly roared to life, as shots of green laser beams began to fire at every ship in sight. The X-Wings maneuvered with great stealth, managing to avoid the onslaught.

"Clark, pull out!" a voice screamed.

He did so and the initial command was followed up with a question concerning his well being. Clark informed that he was fine.

Shots continued to fire in seemingly all directions. The Death Star fired on the small ships. The X-Wings fired back with a vengeance. This entire battle could mean instantaneous death for any involved. Willing to make that extreme sacrifice, all continued.

Aboard the Death Star, crew members were running wild in every direction. They had no way of knowing this attack was coming. Thus, they did not have a chance to prepare for it. The one figure that seemed to remain calm was Darth Vader. He walked slowly down a corridor, as if this were a normal, daily occurrence. A ship captain ran in his direction.

"We count thirty Rebel ships, Lord Vader," the captain announced. "But they're so small they're avoiding our lasers."

"We'll have to destroy them ship by ship," Vader retorted nonchalantly. "Get the crews to their fighters."

It was just as Vader was giving this instruction that the Empire managed to destroy it's first target, as an X-Wing fighter, known only as Porkuns went up in a ball of flames.

Small areas of the planet sized Death Star were beginning to feel some impact, some being taken out of commission. One more figure stood calm. Not as calm as Vader, but stone faced; experiencing a great feeling of annoyance and anger at this situation. Grand Moff Tarkin glanced out the port window, silently taking in the situation.

"The Rebel base will be in firing range in seven minutes," an amplified voice told him.

Tarkin's temper settled slightly. He was pleased with this announcement. In a mere seven minutes, the Rebellion would be destroyed and what he considered peace would be restored to the galaxy.

  
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The X-Wing pilots continued their attack. As Clark was flying, he heard a familiar voice echo throughout his chamber, "Clark, the time is near." Clark tapped his transmitter helmet, thinking the voice may have been coming from there. Even as he did so, he knew this was not the case. This was clearly the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi. But how could this be? He had seen Obi-Wan die with his own eyes. Why did he keep hearing the Jedi Master's voice? Thoughts flew through his mind. "Am I going mad? Is hearing the dead another of my Kryptonian powers?" Even as these ideas crossed his mind, Clark knew neither of them were true.

A new voice interrupted his thoughts; a real voice this time.

"Squad leaders, we've picked up a new group of signals. Enemy fighters are coming your way," the voice stated plainly.

"Negative. I don't seen anything," Clark objected.

"Here they come," another pilot confirmed.

Almost instantaneously, the air filled with Imperial Tie Fighters. Each ship followed behind a specific X-Wing and began to fire. It was not long before one of the Rebellion's ships went up in a ball of flames. This mission just increased from dangerous to dire. There was no doubt the Empire could easily provide enough ship's to outnumber the Rebels. Nonetheless, they were not about to give up without a fight.

Clark maneuvered his ship to get behind a Tie Fighter that was well on target to destroy one of his fellow pilots. Lining up his sights, Clark fired and became the first to eliminate one of the enemy attackers.

Darth Vader, having watched on with interest decided it was time to take some action of his own. He began a trek down the corridor toward his own private Tie Fighter.

"Clark, watch your back," a warning came.

It was almost instantaneous that Clark felt the impact of blaster fire connecting with the rear of his ship. R2-D2 sprung into action, expelling a small tool that he used to treat the damage. Clark was struggling to keep control of the ship. That was when he heard the mysterious voice of Obi-Wan once again.

"Clark, it is time."

Instinctively, Clark knew exactly what Obi-Wan meant.

"I've been hit. I'm touching down," Clark informed the others.

He maneuvered his X-Wing to land on a small strip. He would have to be out of the ship to perform the task at hand; the task that he now knew would destroy The Death Star.

  
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As Clark was touching down, Darth Vader was taking off. His Tie Fighter shot off like a rocket, quickly joining the battle between Empire and Rebellion. With all the stealth of a seasoned pilot, the Sith Lord began eliminating one X-Wing fighter after another. Before long, the air was illuminated by the flames of fallen Rebel pilots. And, by all rights, it would appear that the Empire would be victorious in this battle.

The black clad Sith remained calm and poised. To spite Vader's confidence and stealth, others aboard The Death Star were not as confident.

"There is a threat," Grand Moff Tarkin was informed. "Should I have your ship standing by?"

"Evacuate?" Tarkin asked indignantly, "In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances."

Tarkin was every bit as confident as Vader. And both men's extreme belief in victory would be fully warranted if not for one man; if not for Clark Skywalker.

  
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Having touched down his X-Wing, Clark Skywalker paused momentarily before exiting the ship. This was his moment of truth. From this point forward, everything would be different. What he was about to do was a risk in so many ways. He was about to expose himself and his powers in a way he never had before. Clark turned toward R2-D2. Placing his hand on the droid, he announced, "This is it, my friend. I'll be back"

Just like that, Clark flew off in a blur, leaving ship and droid behind. He flew faster and farther than he ever had before. In a way, that alone was a test of his powers. Clark had always been able to fly. He had always had great and mysterious powers. But he had never truly tested their limits; if there even were limits.

Within a matter of seconds, Clark found himself standing on his home planet of Tatooine. It had only been a couple days since he had left this planet. Yet, in that short time, everything seemed to have changed. Tatooine seemed so much smaller in light of the adventures Clark had already been on. In comparison to all he had seen, it looked more bare and desolate than it ever had before. And it wasn't just all he had seen in his short journey that changed his view of this place. The planet truly was different. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen were gone. The farm had been burnt to the ground. His best friend Biggs had left even before all that had happened. And Ben...Clark paused in fond remembrance of this man that had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time. All that was left on Tatooine were memories. Memories, and one item.

  
Racing across the sandy surface of the planet at lightning speed, Clark gave the appearance of nothing more than a massive cloud of dust. In under a second, he came to a stop at the home of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Walking in, he paused for a moment. There were so many memories for the short time he had spend there. But he could not pause for long. A battle was raging. A battle that would be lost if he hesitated for too long.

  
In a moment's time, Clark opened the trunk and pulled out the suit his parents had left him. In a flash, it was on. Pulling back his hair, Clark was once again airborne. Flying at a faster speed than the Millennium Falcon could ever muster, Clark left behind a blur of blue and red, as he found himself almost immediately flying amidst X-Wing and Tie Fighter ships. Ahead was his target. Ahead was The Death Star.

  
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Darth Vader had two other Tie Fighters fall into formation alongside him; one on his right and the other to his left. Together, the three appeared to be eliminating X-Wing fighters at will. One after another, X-Wings erupted in balls of fire. This trio was quickly reducing the size of the already small Rebel Alliance.

Just as the X-Wings were appearing to lose all effectiveness, one broke loose and made it into close range of the Death Star. Looking at the readouts that had been provided to each pilot, he maneuvered into proximity to take aim at the thermal exhaust port. Closing in, he set the target into the ship's navigation system. Aiming, he waited for the right moment. Lining up things as best as possible, he aimed.

The shot missed by inches. But it did have an impact on the space station. Stormtroopers and various soldiers in the Empire's employ, stumbled about, knocked off balance by the attack. But, alas, the damage to the space station itself was minimal.

  
Vader continued his assault on the one man ships, using his sensitivity to the force to line up each effective shot. Having obliterated most others, the Sith Lord was now on the tail of the X-Wing battalion's lead ship. He was about to fire when a sight caught his eye. At first, it was just a blur of red and blue that seemed to zip past his ship. In a split second, however, he realized this was more than some strange blur.

  
"How could this be?" Vader pondered. No other beings in the entire galaxy had the power of flight. Only Kryptonians. But how could this be possible? He had just eliminated Obi-Wan and every other inhabitant of his birth planet had been destroyed years earlier, along with the planet itself.

Vader only had a moment to ponder this thought, as he suddenly felt his small ship knocked off course. Moving his attention from the mysterious being, Vader glanced back to realize he had been struck by a much larger ship; the very same ship that had escaped The Death Star a short time earlier.

"Yee-haw!" Han Solo shouted in mock-cowboy fashion, as he watched Darth Vader's Tie Fighter spiral out of control, careening off into the distance.

Seeing this transpire, Clark seized his opportunity. Flying into range at top speed, the Kryptonian Jedi neared the thermal exhaust port. He was about to take his shot, but at that very moment, Clark once again heard the familiar voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Use the force, Clark."

Hearing this, he closed his eyes. He could sense the thermal port was in range. Opening his eyes, he immediately focused his heat vision. The port's temperature increased at a rapid pace amidst his super stare. Within mere seconds, the massive Death Star blew up in an explosion that could be seen far throughout the galaxy. Clark easily navigated his way out of the fire and debris.

With his feat accomplished, Clark stopped, hovering in space as he looked on toward the destroyed station. It was not long before others noticed this strange being. It was Princess Leia who first spotted the costumed hero.

Pointing him out to General Dodonna, the two queried over who this might be. The next to see him was Han, who nearly lost control of the Millennium Falcon as his attention was drawn to this impossible sight. Within moments, the entire Rebel Alliance was focused on this strange being. Who was this friend who, when all seemed lost, had come out of nowhere to help them eliminate their enemy? This was a question that none of them had an answer for.

  
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With all eyes focused on him, Clark streaked off toward the X-Wing fighter he had abandoned. The smile on his face was wider than any he'd ever known. Clark could hardly believe he had done it. And it wasn't even just his natural powers. He had allowed the force to guide him. Clark wanted nothing more than to celebrate, but he knew time was of the essence. If he waited too long to return to the Rebel Base, people would begin to grow concerned. And possibly suspicious.

In a flash, Clark pulled his pilot suit back on, directly over his new costume. Climbing back aboard the X-Wing, he turned to his droid, "We did it, R2."

The small droid responded with his normal series of bleeps and blips.  
With that, the two flew back to the Rebel Base.

"Where have you been?" Princess Leia immediately questioned.

"The ship took a hit and I thought it would be best if I touched down. After looking it over, I realized the damage was minimal. I guess I could have carried on."

"That's the type of thing that gets resolved through experience. Instinct and talent are great, but when you're in battle, nothing can compare to training and experience. You did well though, Son. You'll get there," General Dodonna chimed in.

"You're kidding," Clark smiled knowingly.

"And then the most incredible thing happened," Leia paused, "This strange man came out of nowhere. He flew in and managed to somehow blow up the space station."

"Flew in?" Clark questioned. "What kind of ship did he have?"

"No, you don't understand. He," she paused again, "He flew. Like he flew himself. No ship."

"Wow. That sounds incredible," Clark grinned, "I wish I could have seen that."

"Don't worry. I'm sure it's not the last we've seen of him," the general concluded.

"I'm sure you're right about that," Clark stated.

Neither the general, nor the princes knew this was a promise and not just a passive comment.

  
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Two days had past since the destruction of the Death Star and the members of the Rebel Alliance were still plenty ecstatic. None more so than Princess Leia and Clark Skywalker.

Clark felt a newfound confidence that he had never known before. He had always felt he had a call to greatness, what with his powers and just a simple general knowing that had always welled up within him. With this massive accomplishment now behind him, he felt a weird combination of pride and humility. Pride for what he had accomplished, but humility for knowing it was the universal force that had ultimately guided him. Nonetheless, each paired together to make him a new man. The shy, Tatooinian farm boy that questioned his future was gone. Clark was a new man; a man with an unlimited destiny.

Leia, herself, also felt a great sense of accomplishment. She may not have flown in an X-Wing or fired a single shot in battle, but it was much of the princess' cunning tactics and dedication that led to the battle even taking place. In reality, if not for Leia's efforts, The Death Star would likely still be floating out in space, ready to control the galaxy by destroying planets at will.

Knowing the significance of this victory, the princess had used her royal clout to put together a ceremony that would honor those who had fought in the great battle. And now she stood in front of the entire Rebel Alliance ready to speak. Leia was decked out in a glowing white and gold gown with her hair done up in elegant fashion.

"I do not feel I need to explain the importance of what has transpired here just a few short days ago," the princess began. "The stranglehold the Empire once had on the galaxy has been greatly reduced. The destruction of the Death Star has undoubtedly saved millions of lives and hundreds of planets. What's more, it has shown that our small band of dedicated soldiers is able to make a difference." A small cheer rose through the crowd before Leia continued, "But let us not be fooled, the Empire is far from defeated. We have struck a mighty blow; one that will be felt throughout all of the Empire's ranks. Yet, they will regroup and they will try to regain power. Now, more than ever, we must be vigilant. We must build on the destructive blow we have delivered. And, in time, the evil Empire will be dethroned and peace will be restored to the galaxy." Another cheer arose.

"But now," the princess smiled, "Now is a time for celebration; for celebration and for honor. I would like to start out by taking a moment of silence for our fallen brethren who gave their lives for our mission."

The crowd, fell silent, as heads bowed. After a short time, Leia continued, "Next, I would like to honor all the pilots and military tacticians that were part of this most successful mission."

Leia looked toward a portion of the crowd that was filled with men in uniform, she instructed them to arise. They did so amidst thunderous applause. Clark Skywalker was among those standing. Wearing his orange pilot suit, a smile crept across his face. Only he knew how much he had actually contributed to this effort. And he liked it that way.

"Finally, I would like to specifically honor a few men, without which, this mission likely would not have been successful."

As Leia finished speaking of each, she placed a ribbon around their head. From each ribbon hung a golden medallion. Each accepted the honor with pride.

"Lastly," Princess Leia looked skyward, "I would be amiss if I did not mention our mysterious friend. It was he who ultimately struck the deadly blow that destroyed the Death Star. Yet, we know nothing of this man. Not his name, where he came from or why he chose to help in our battle. Yet, we owe this stranger a most sincere form of gratitude. And though we may not know your name, we do know one thing for certain," Clark smiled as she stated, "We do know that you are one super man."


End file.
